


One Last Chance

by thequidditchpitch_archivist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Action/Adventure, Angst, Drama, Friendship, Post-Hogwarts, Romance, The Quidditch Pitch: Leaving Feast, Tragedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-01-31
Updated: 2008-06-30
Packaged: 2018-10-26 13:01:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 19
Words: 34,910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10787241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thequidditchpitch_archivist/pseuds/thequidditchpitch_archivist
Summary: In one day...Ron's whole life, if Hermione can manage to change things the second time around that is.Narrated from Ron and Hermione's PoV alternately.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Annie, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Quidditch Pitch](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Quidditch_Pitch), which went offline in 2015 when the hosting expired, at a time I was not able to renew it. I contacted Open Doors, hoping to preserve the archive using an old backup, and began importing these works as an Open Doors-approved project in April 2017. Open Doors e-mailed all authors about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [The Quidditch Pitch collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thequidditchpitch/profile).

I was waiting for Hermione to come back from her meeting with the Gringotts Goblins.

 

Sure, everybody expected Harry and maybe even McGonagall to be left something in the old nutter's will but for Hermione to get a mention was very weird, indeed. It also made me wonder why I was left out. 

 

I'm always left out, unless there's a novel way to get hurt. I'm good at that.

 

Harry was still recuperating from the final battle in St Mungo's. We were going to have breakfast and then scoot over to say hello and see how much the Minister for Magic had pissed him off today. I did find it hard not to laugh when he showed me the proposed 'Ministry Approved' article that was to adorn the front page of the _Daily Prophet_ today.

 

_'Harry Potter Integral to Ministry's Defeat of You-Know-Who'_

 

Integral.

 

Sorry, I'm laughing again. I can't help it.

 

_'Ronald Weasley's Lungs Integral to Body's Ability to Breathe'_

 

Harry apparently suggested the amendment:

 

_'Harry Potter...Succeeds Despite Idiocy of Ministry'_

 

Hermione and I liked that one. The Minister didn't think much of it. Today's headline says something about the minister staging a press conference this afternoon but the people wanted to hear from the 'Saviour of the Wizarding World' and not some incompetent politician. The incompetent politician bit will cheer Harry up, I don't doubt. The thing about the people wanting more of Harry’s soul won't do his mood swings a hell of a lot of good though.

 

I don't blame him, of course. It must feel awful to have a whole society feel they own you and place expectations on you all the time. It's days like this I'm glad nobody expects anything from me. 

 

Nobody.

 

Not a body.

 

I looked at my watch and huffed as I realised Hermione had been an hour being remembered in Dumbledore's will.

 

I'm not bitter. I only took a fatal poisoning for the man.

 

\---

 

Right, Hermione's really acting weird now.

 

I don't know what went on up there, but she's gone do-lally!

 

One minute she's happy to see me, the next she's all cool and distant. She was in and out of Gringotts a bit before telling me it was none of my business what Dumbledore left her.

 

Well, I can see her point. I'm only one of her very best friends. I only spent the past year sleeping rough with her and Harry while facing off against the most dangerous and powerful witches and wizards around. I'm sure if _I_ had been called into a secret meeting inside Dumbledore's personal vault, she wouldn't have a single question to ask me.

 

She's the kind of girl who will cuddle you one minute and look at you like you're crap on the sole of her shoe the next.

 

I was ordering our teas and toasted crumpets while she hunched over something, trying to hide it behind her hair. So she wants to keep it a secret from me? That's fine. Maybe she thinks I'm not mature enough to handle having two rich best friends while I barely have enough to pay for our tea and crumpets. I've matured. I don't care if she's rich now.  
 

 

Money isn't everything. I've never had it so I can happily live without it. Never had it, never miss it.

 

"There you go," I said as I set her tea down and made her jump.

 

"Oh thank you Ron," she blinked and looked into the cup with some degree of surprise. "You didn't over milk it."

 

"Well, I've known you long enough by now to know how you like your tea, haven't I?" I huffed as I sat down.

 

"I didn't say that. I just..." Hermione reigned herself in and forced a smile onto her face. "Thank you Ron. Where are the crumpets?"

 

"The cafe house-elves are bringing them when they're done," I waved my hand over my shoulder before realising that I'd just put my great size nine foot in it again.

 

" _What_? Too exhausting to carry two small plates of muffins over here for yourself is it?" Hermione said, looking greatly affronted.

 

"They told me to take a seat, I didn't ask!" I protested, defensively.

 

"I bet you put up a real fight on the house-elves' behalf, didn't you?" she said with a sarcastic expression on her face.

 

"Oh bloody hell, Hermione," I said, rather too loudly I admit. "It isn't as if I asked them to weave me a napkin out of strands of gold. I asked for crumpet and they told me to sit down!"

 

A couple of young witches sitting at a corner table began to giggle into their frothy coffees. I looked at them as if they were off their rockers. It always makes me uneasy to hear a pair of witches giggling in the same way Lavender and Parvati used to do.

 

"Thank you, Ronald," Hermione said, her tones clipped, "make it sound like you think you’re in a brothel, why don't you?"

 

"Well, I don't know what Dumbledore left you in his will but I'm damned sure it wasn't his chilled-out personality!" I huffed just as a house-elf appeared with our crumpets and bowed low to the ground before placing them on the table and shuffling away, still in the bowing position.

 

"No, don't leave," Hermione called after the elf, who immediately sprang upright and bounced over to attend to Hermione's request. "Here," she said happily as she pulled a silver Sickle out of her pocket and held it out to the elf, "this is for your trouble."

 

"Oh no, Miss," the horrified elf said, backing away from the coin as if fearing it would turn them to stone at the merest touch. "I is not wanting payment. Your pleasure at my work is payment enough."

 

"But I will get pleasure to know you received fair payment for your hard work," Hermione persisted.

 

"Is not hard to serve kind missus and misters like yous twos. Payment is an insult. I won't disgrace myself with taking your moneys, Miss."

 

"Give it a rest, Hermione," I said wearily, casting the poor distressed elf a pitying look.  
 

 

The petrified thing almost clung to my leg when it saw I wasn't with Hermione on the payment idea.

 

"Things will never change unless we persevere," she said fiercely before straightening up and saying haughtily. "I order you to take this money from me and use it for yourself."  
 

 

The elf looked ready to vomit.

 

"That's abuse that is!" I found myself declaring. "You're abusing the obedience of this poor little...what's your name?"

 

"I is Grottle sir," the house-elf said, looking at me as if I was his salvation.

 

"Grottle here doesn't care if you've just inherited a fortune and want to show it off in front of us lesser mortals. Leave the poor sod alone!"

 

Yeah, I know that was out of order. I know she didn't mean anything nasty by what she was trying to do. I don't have a problem with her windfall, I really don't, and I felt like shit to see her face fall and her eyes shine as if I'd just beheaded Crookshanks for larks. I was a git but she really doesn’t help matters when she gets all difficult and _'always right-y'_.

 

I am also aware that _'always right-y'_ isn't a real expression...and I don't care.

 

"How dare...How could you say...?" Hermione was almost speechless.

 

Almost speechless is never good. The almost side of that state of shock only reminds you that the speech is indeed coming and you will soon be reduced to nothing more than a heartless, selfish, self-pitying git.

 

I saw her coming back to herself and sat back, resigned to my well-deserved ear-bashing.

 

"I know you are sensitive about your financial situation, Ronald, but that was an awful thing to say to me, and in public too!"

 

I looked at the house-elf. He looked like he felt sorry for me while being somewhat pleased that Hermione was no longer focused upon him at all. I shrugged; Grottle shrugged back.

 

"...aren't even listening to me are you?"

 

"I agree with you completely, Hermione. Money isn't everything and I am eternally wrong while you are all things right and not at all moody and unpredictable this morning."

 

Oh that did it. She was going to blow.

 

"What on earth is that supposed to mean?" she demanded.

 

I swallowed.

 

"I'm sorry," I said edgily.

 

"For what?" Hermione said, clenching her jaw.

 

"For...everything...ever!" I said, trying not to sound as if I was deliberately winding her up.

 

"Ron, you have been acting strange ever since I came out of that meeting at Gringotts. What has got into you?" Hermione demanded.

 

My fault. This is now my fault. Her mood swings are all my fault. The plight of the house-elves is my fault. The fact that those giggling witches were giggling even more was all my fault. There were only two ways to go: continue arguing with her until we reached out usual explosive finale and ruined Harry's no doubt already stress-filled day, or show her how it feels to have somebody run hot and cold with you.

 

I taught her a lesson.

 

I leaned over the table, crumpet pressing against my jumper and smearing butter all over it, and put my hand around the back of her head. Just as she opened her mouth in shock, I clamped my own over hers and kissed her.

 

She didn't do a hell of a lot of kissing back. Well, not for the first little lunges of my tongue. Then she began to join in a bit. By that time, I needed to take a breath so I broke the kiss and gasped for air.

 

"I really like you, too..." I said with a sincere nod.

 

Then her eyes looked betrayed and she shoved me away.

 

"You think that's funny, do you?" she said, refusing to meet my eyes any more, "Contrary to popular myth, when a woman tells you you’re an insufferable prat it sometimes simply means you are an insufferable prat!"

 

I flung myself back in my chair and gave up on a bad job. The house-elf was going for a discreet escape. If I was in the doghouse, then that little bastard was coming with me.

 

"Oi, you," I called out to Grottle, "get back here and take her bloody money. Us lesser beings should be grateful when the important people in this world throw us a scrap of hope from time to time."

 

Hermione glared at me. I gestured for Grottle to come back and he reluctantly scampered back to cower at my chair.

 

"Y'see, I have no money to force upon you for the sake of my own ego, Grotty, and I don't have a high enough opinion of myself to preach to you until you rip off your own feet just so you have something to stuff into your ears, but I do have the ability to love," I said with so much sarcasm I shocked even myself. "So dear tormented house-elf, in exchange for you bringing me a toasted crumpet on a plate, I hereby adopt you as my son and I christen you...Ron Junior!"

 

Grottle looked as if his head was about to explode. Hermione looked as if she wanted mine to explode with it.

 

"I was going to confide what Dumbledore left to me with you _in private_ but seeing as all you care about is money and humiliating me in public, you can take your crumpet and shove i-"

 

"Sir and Miss, please!" Grottle screeched as he jumped up onto the table, beating himself on the head with his hands. "Grottle is sorry if he did wrong and caused the nasty shouting. Grottle is punishing himself. See Grottle punished Sir? Miss?"

 

Hermione rose from her chair and stared down at me as if I was a total stranger to her.

 

"Sometimes you make it impossible to be your friend, Ronald Weasley." 

 

I watched her march off and fought the urge to throw the buttered crumpets at the stupid giggling witches behind me.

 


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

 

 

 

 

I cannot believe him sometimes!  
  
There was absolutely no need for him to act like that. Merlin! A four-year-old has better manners than him!  
  
He knows how I feel about house-elves; all he had to do was bring the sodding crumpets to the table. How difficult is that?  
  
And then he has the audacity to bring money into the situation! Like that’s my fault!  
  
I carried on down the street towards the Leaky Cauldron. There was no way I was hanging around to shop today; the pouring rain doesn’t do much for the desire to go shopping. Plus, there’s the fact we’re supposed to be seeing Harry in ten minutes. That’s going to be so much fun!  
  
Is he even following me? He’d better bloody well had be! That argument was entirely his fault. Well…almost.  
  
Okay, I admit, I can get a bit over the top about the rights of house-elves but there was no need to behave like troll with its brain removed!  
  
I steal a quick glance over my shoulder and don’t see him. _Where the hell is he?_ Hasn’t he grasped the concept of running after his best friend when she’s upset? Best friend…friend…girl…who he’s known for years and still can’t read right. I thought we understood each other, apparently not!  
  
And as for this will matter, of course I was going to tell him, like I wouldn’t! I was going to tell both him and Harry when we got to the hospital. I still will...probably.  
  
I looked over my shoulder again and to my satisfaction saw a flash of red hair. Why he didn’t have his hood up in this weather, I don’t know.  
  
_Should I stop and wait for him?_ I already know the answer to this. Yes, I should. My pace slowed and I turned around. His hands were in his pockets and his hair was plastered against his forehead. I watched as he walked closer to me…and then right past me.  
  
I tut loudly and set off after him.  
  
‘Ron!’ I called to his back.  
  
He raised his head and looked over his shoulder. His eyes widen in shock at the sight of me.  
  
I walked up to him. ‘Is there a reason why you just ignored me?’ I half shouted at him. The rain was getting heavier.  
  
‘Yes!’ he replied. ‘I didn’t bloody well see you, that’s why! I was trying to keep the rain out of my eyes by looking at the ground. Is that alright with you?’

  
‘You could have put your hood up! Then you wouldn’t have needed to stare intently at the ground.’  
  
He mumbled something.  
  
‘What was that?’ I asked.  
  
He sighed, obviously irritated. ‘I said, I look stupid with a hood up.’  
  
‘Well, I don’t look great with mine up but when it’s pouring with rain I tend to take the option that will keep me dry!’  
  
‘Well, it’s my choice to not take that option, isn’t it? Now, is there a reason why we’ve stopped walking or can we get to the hospital before I catch pneumonia and need to stay there for a week?’  
  
I opened my mouth to tell him exactly why we’d stopped but before I had the chance to say anything, he started talking again.  
  
‘Good. Let’s go.’  
  
He turned on his heel and started walking away from me. I watched him for a few seconds to see if he was going to make sure I was following him. He didn’t. I don’t know what annoyed me more, the fact that he was that arrogant that he thought I’d follow him no matter what, or the fact that I knew I was going to follow him, no matter what.  
  
I set off after him at a slight jog. Lightening had just filled the sky and I knew the second wave of torrential rain was about to fall around me.  
  
\- - -  
  
I was squashed in the corner of the pub but not by choice. Because of the rain, everyone had decided to take shelter in the pub, which made getting through it and out onto the Muggle street pretty damn difficult.  
  
‘Do you want to have a drink before we go to the hospital?’ Ron shouted at me, over the din of the pub.  
  
‘Ron! It’s nine 9 o’clock in the morning! I can’t believe you want to have a drink now!’  
  
He sighed and rolled his eyes. ‘I didn’t mean an alcoholic drink; I meant something to warm us through. I don’t know about you but I’m freezing my bo--’  
  
‘All right! I get the picture!’  
  
I looked around; as much as the thought of a hot chocolate was quite desirable at that moment, I didn’t fancy my chances of getting to the bar before midday.  
  
‘I think we’ll be a while getting them, don’t you?’  
  
Ron took a look around him then shrugged. ‘Suppose. Come on then.’  
  
I think by habit more than anything, he took my wrist and helped steer me through the crowd. The independent part of my brain was telling me I should be annoyed that he decided I couldn’t make my own way through the crowd, but the slightly fed up and sensitive part of my brain was glad that he wanted to make sure I got through the crowd in one piece.  
  
We eventually made it out the front door of the pub and I pulled the hood of my cloak over my head. I looked at Ron and sighed when he refused to do the same.  
  
‘Don’t you be thinking I’m going to visit you in hospital if you do catch pneumonia! It’ll be your own fault!’  
  
He didn’t reply, he just scowled.  
  
‘You know we could just Apparate from right here, you know!’  
  
‘Ron, we’re in a Muggle street!’  
  
‘Yes, thank you Hermione, I know exactly where we are, but they can’t see the pub. They can’t even see us standing here!’  
  
‘There is an Apparition point two minutes walk from here. If you can’t be bothered putting your hood up against the rain, then that’s your problem. We are going to walk that Apparition point!’  
  
I set off at a march. Thankfully, the rain hadn’t worsened and had even started to lessen slightly.  
  
A smirk crossed my face when I heard Ron splashing through the street behind me, but it disappeared when the footsteps hurried past me and I realised it wasn’t Ron.  
  
_Don’t you dare look behind!_  
  
I tried to listen to the voice in my head but my neck muscles seemed to be ignoring it completely.  
  
_Stop it!_  
  
My pace quickened and I carried on down the street.  
  
I turned the corner and looked up at the small sign that was hanging at the very end of the street. To any Muggle reading it, it was a sign showing the way to the nearest bus stop, but to witches and wizards it was a sign stating this was an official, Ministry Approved Apparition Point.  
  
I stood under the sign and turned round, waiting for Ron. I tried to ignore the disappointment I felt when I couldn’t see him. I managed it until the frustration took over. I could always go without him, I suppose.  
  
I was spared having to make that decision when he came around the corner. When he wasn’t too far away, I called out to him.  
  
‘In your own time!’

  
‘Thanks,’ he replied. ‘I will.’  
  
I scowled at him and he pulled a forced smile, trying to wind me up.  
  
‘Ready?’ he asked in a sing-song voice.  
  
‘Yes,’ I replied, still scowling.  
  
‘Good.’  
  
He was still pulling his forced smile as he turned on the spot and disappeared from sight.  
  
\- - -

  
‘Where are you going?’ I demanded of him when he turned and walked in the opposite direction of where the hospital was.  
  
He sighed and turned back around to face me. His hair was still flat against his forehead, and his hands were stuffed in his jeans pockets.  
  
‘I’m getting a _Prophet_ , if you must know.’  
  
He turned to the small stall that was selling the daily paper and a variety of Wizarding magazines. The owner of the stall did a good business being right outside the hospital. Whether or not the patients inside the hospital liked to read about the events they were missing whilst in the large building, their friends and relatives would always presume they’d want to know every detail. They received a paper whether they wanted one or not.  
  
I watched as he fell into fits of giggles as he read the headline. The seller started to laugh with him and they fell into an easy conversation. Over the past few days, they had exchanged many a word, most of which had been rude.  
  
I shivered violently and glared at Ron. _Merlin he could talk!_  
  
He pulled his payment out of his pocket and handed it to the seller.  
  
_Finally!  
_  
I pulled my hood down as the rain had all but stopped. Ron said his goodbyes to his kindred spirit and pushed the paper inside his cloak so it wouldn’t get wet. As he stepped up next to me I shivered.  
  
‘Not cold are we, Hermione? You should have put your hood up!’  
  
He walked past me with an annoying smirk on his face. I caught up to him and was about to give him a piece of my mind when he started talking to the dummy in the window of the hospital.  
  
‘Ron Weasley and a very cold Hermione Granger to see Harry Potter.’  
  
My jaw dropped but I shut my mouth fast enough when he turned to look at me.  
  
‘You’re not funny, Ron!’  
  
‘Well, Jack over there disagrees with you. He thinks I’m hilarious!’  
  
‘What were you laughing at anyway?’  
  
‘Oh, I couldn’t possibly tell you that!’  
  
‘Why not!’ I screeched.  
  
Ron turned to look at the dummy in the window and nodded at it. Without saying another word, he stepped through the glass and left me standing alone in the street.  
  
I growled in frustration and followed him through the glass.  
  
The warmth that hit me was a huge comfort. I took my wet cloak off and hung it over my arm. I looked ahead and saw Ron was still wearing his, dripping rain all over the floor as he went through the reception area.  
  
‘He hasn’t even noticed!’ I hissed under my breath. _Merlin, he was so infuriating!  
_  
He had stopped to talk to someone, or rather, someone had stopped him to question him. Ron was trying to be polite and excuse himself without seeming rude. No doubt, this person was trying to get any information about how the Hero of the Wizarding World, namely Harry, was doing in his hospital bed upstairs.  
  
Ron flashed the elderly wizard his most charming smile and despite the annoyance I felt at him, I melted ever-so-slightly. _How the hell does he do that?_  
  
He glanced at me as the smile was fading, but I found myself raising a smile at him. I couldn’t help it, that smile was infectious!  
  
‘Did he ask about Harry?’  
  
‘Well, he wasn’t asking about me!’  
  
He turned and took a step forward, but the water that had dripped off his coat had collected in a pool around him. The next thing I knew, I was being pulled down to the floor, and I landed, closely entwined with Ron, in a heap on the ground.  
  
‘Oww!’ I exclaimed!  
  
I heard hysterical laughter around me; whoever was laughing at our misfortune was going to get an earful, whoever they were, whether ill or perfectly healthy! I twisted my head to find the culprit, only to find out it was the person who got me in this embarrassing situation in the first place.  
  
Despite the pain in my back, I scrambled to my feet and glared at Ron. I could feel the eyes of everyone around us on me and I grew hot from embarrassment. I snatched my cloak off the floor and stormed through the double doors that led to the staircase.  
  
After a few seconds, the giggles caught up with me.  
  
‘Ah, come on Hermione, it was funny!’  
  
‘Funny! FUNNY! Ron that is the second time you have embarrassed me in as many hours! If it’s not kissing me in a coffee shop it’s pulling me to the ground in the hospital!’  
  
‘It wasn’t my fault!’ he replied, the smile fading from his face. ‘The floor was wet! How is that my fault!’  
  
‘If you’d bother to realise how soaking wet your cloak is Ron, you’d have noticed you were the one who made the puddle on the floor! So you only have yourself to blame, as do I!’  
  
He looked down at his cloak and watched as a drip landed on the floor.  
  
‘Oh,’ he muttered.  
  
I smirked at him and turned round. I ascended the stairs to the floor Harry was on and pushed my way through the double doors.  
  
As much as Harry’s mood was prone to very sudden change, it would be a relief from the insensitivity that I had endured all morning.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

 

 

I pondered on whether or not I should buy Harry some chocolate from the sundries booth in reception. Glancing up at Hermione, I realised I'd probably already wasted too much time lagging behind.

 

I'd done it, in part, to make a point that she can't just treat me like crap and keep expecting me to follow her blindly. I'd also been genuinely distracted by a strange old woman offering to tell me my fortune. I could see me telling Hermione about that.

 

As little as I think of all that Divination stuff, I know she values it even less despite how accurate Trelawney's two genuine predications turned out to be. But it was still a bit more than just a scam artist wanting me to cross her palm with silver.

 

The old hag had been really insistent that she didn't want money; she just wanted me to listen.

 

Now that was unsettling.

 

But I was getting wet, in the doghouse seven or eight times over and losing sight of Hermione so I had to take off.

 

That had been when the hag had called after me, called my name. I hadn't told her my name. I tried to shake it off as nothing more than my magical upbringing clouding my reality. It was just like all that Grim stuff. See a black dog and you're gonna die...yeah, right! Old hag tells you she's come to save your life? Well sure, whatever you say, love. I had a teacher who'd tell Harry he was a dead man every time she saw him and the bloke I'm popping upstairs to see is still very much alive.

 

Hermione had taken time out of her busy 'glaring at me as if I'm a walking turd' schedule to push open the doors to Harry's private ward and disappear inside with her usual bustle.

 

He'd be able to tell we'd been fighting, Hermione and me, he always could and he hates it. Blimey, I don't like it myself; I don't go looking for tension with her.

 

"Mr Weasley," a soft voice said as slight little fingers gripped my arm and pulled me back.

 

"Huh?" I blinked as I found myself dragged into a nearby doorway.

 

It was a hunching figure, smaller than me and completely covered from head to toe with St Mungo's Healer robes, the face of whoever it was hidden behind one of those hygiene masks, and all I could relate to was the bridge of a nose and a female voice.

 

"I'm afraid there's been a problem with a highly contagious infection on this floor and you're going to have to go into quarantine for twenty four hours. Here, come with me."

 

The hand pulled me and the shrouded Healer tried to open the door we were standing beside. It was locked.

 

"You what? But..." I pointed to Harry's still open door, where my two best mates were waiting for me.

 

"Oh bother!" the Healer muttered as she pulled out her wand and tried several unlocking charms with no success.

 

I looked up and down the corridor and pondered calling out for Hermione to give me a hand.

 

"Well, no matter," the Healer said, sounding flustered, "we'll try the quarantine area next door, shall we?"

 

The witch dragged me across to the next door and flung it open. We both stared at the mop and bucket in total silence. The 'Healer' dropped her head and her shoulders slumped. I patted her on the shoulder sympathetically.

 

"Are you maybe a bit lost?" I asked as gently as I could.

 

The witch nodded silently.

 

"Did you go for a walk from your...special ward?" I said, trying to not say lunatic or nutter or any kind of trigger word that would set the wacko off.

 

"No!" the witch snapped sharply, making me jump a little, her grip tightened and she tried to shove me into the mop cupboard.

 

"Oi, what is your problem? Why are you picking on me?" I huffed.

 

"You're infected and you need to be locked away for twenty-four hours. Now do as you're told, Mr Weasley!" the fierce voice hissed.

 

"How do you know my bloody name?" I said, shoving my way back out of the tiny cupboard and finding myself shoved flat against the wall by the woman's shaking hands.

 

"If I don't lock you away until tomorrow, you could die!" the shrouded figure said, her voice ragged as if she was crying.

 

I slumped against the wall and hugged the half-baked escapee from the spell-damage ward to my chest wearily. She clung on to me like there was no tomorrow. Well, to her there wasn't going to be, not ever. My dad had told me about this. So many people survived the war that thought they weren't going to. They'd all prepared themselves to die, lived on the edge of death for years, and now that they were safe they had no idea how to wind down. The anxiety, the fear that there would be no tomorrow for them, they couldn't let it go.

 

"You know what?" I said softly to the sobbing witch in my arms.

 

All the woman did was sniff so I continued.

 

"I'll go into that ward for my quarantine," I nodded over to Harry's open door. I thought I saw a shadow quickly moving and hoped that meant Hermione was about to appear to save me from this clinch with a nut-job, "and you come and sit with me to make sure I don't...run off or something. We'll pull the rope thingy to call for another Healer and we'll both talk to her about this quarantine thing, okay?"

 

The small figure pushed away from me and took a step back. She whimpered and turned to run away from me. All I could make out as she set off was a sob and two words.

 

"I'm sorry."

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

'So what have you been fighting about this time?' Harry asked me with an annoyed stare.

 

I had come into the ward minus Ron and had no idea where he was. So I said good mornings to Harry without him. I had asked how he was feeling and managed to keep my mind with his conversation for a few minutes before he had asked his latest question. Damn he was good, or was I just that bad at hiding what was on my mind?

 

‘Why do you think...he's not even...I...'

 

Merlin Hermione, get your brain in gear!

 

‘How did you know we'd been fighting?' I asked in a mumble. There really was no point in trying to deny we hadn't been fighting.

 

‘Hermione, how long have we been friends? For starters, you're all hot and bothered. Secondly, you've hardly said two words since you came in the ward ---you're obviously thinking about something else. And thirdly, you were supposed to come and visit me together. Well, at the minute you're one person short of being able to call yourselves ‘together'.'

 

I sighed in annoyance, frustration, and a few other things thrown in for good measure.

 

‘So, back to my original question, what have you been fighting about this time?'

 

I thought for a second, what _had_ we been fighting about...oh yes...

 

I was about to start talking when the doors banged open and Ron walked through them looking slightly pale and with a concerned look on his face.

 

‘What's wrong?' I asked him as he sat down.

 

He sat down, realised he was squashing the paper under his robes and took it out before damaging it any further.

 

‘You alright, mate?' he asked Harry.

 

I wasn't sure if he was avoiding my question or just being polite to Harry before answering it.

 

‘Answer Hermione's question,' Harry said with a concerned look in his eyes. Obviously, he thought Ron was avoiding my question.

 

‘Nothing really, just...some witch from the...not-quite-right-in-the-head ward escaped and was wandering around out in the stairwell. She was upset and...she somehow knew my name. Just...weird...bit unnerving.'

 

‘Where is she now?' I asked quietly.

 

‘She ran away after a few minutes. Not sure where she went. I hope she's alright, maybe I should have gone after her.'

 

Before I knew what I was doing I reached over and squeezed his hand, which was resting on his knee.

 

‘If you'd gone after her, she probably would have panicked more. She won't have gone far, and she can't leave the hospital. They have sensors for that.'

 

‘Yeah, I know.'

 

He gave my hand a quick squeeze, and it's then that I became conscious of where it was. After a second, I pulled it back and leant forward in my chair and rested my head on my clasped hands. Ron ran his through his hair and slumped back in his chair.

 

‘So, you didn't answer my question, Harry. How are you?'

 

Harry shrugged in a bored way.

 

‘Well, I got the feeling back in another finger over night. Woke up it was stinging so badly. I hate pins and needles!'

 

‘More than not being able to feel your arm?' Ron replied with a smirk.

 

I smiled with him but then realised where this conversation might lead. I changed the subject as soon as possible.

 

‘So, when do you think you'll be allowed to leave, Harry?'

 

He shrugged again; he was answering far too many questions with non-committal shrugs.

 

‘Dunno really. Couple of weeks if I'm lucky, if not, could be months.'

 

‘I doubt you'll be in here that long, Harry. If you put your mind to it, you could be out of here in a very short time.'

 

As soon as I said the words I knew there was a chance he'd take them the wrong way.

 

‘Are you saying if I'm in here for longer than that, then it's my fault? Because in some strange way my subconscious mind doesn't want to get out of here?'

 

Yeah, that was what I thought he'd think I meant.

 

‘She didn't say anything of the sort, mate,' Ron replied.

 

I was slightly shocked at his instant defence of me. Then again, I don't know why. He has a habit of doing that, especially when I least expect him to.

 

‘Harry, you know I didn't mean anything like that. I just want you to try and stay...well...positive. I know how depressing this place is and I want you to get out of here as soon as possible. I miss you, _we_ miss you.'

 

He looked up at Ron and then at me and sighed.

 

‘Sorry,' he mumbled. ‘You're right; this place is just...getting to me, that's all. If it's not people peering at me from over the top of their _Prophets_ after ignoring me for the rest of the day, it's people staring at me through the glass in the doors.'

 

‘Talking of the _Prophet_ ,' Ron said, reaching over to the paper he had dropped on Harry's bed earlier and throwing it up the bed.

 

Harry picked up the paper and unfolded it; he stifled a giggle when his eyes travelled down to the bottom third of the page.

 

‘What does it say?' I asked, having not seen the paper before Ron saved it from the rain.

 

Harry cleared his throat in a dramatic way and took a deep breath.

 

‘ _‘Hot Harlots' demand Harry Potter is made Minister for Magic!_ '

 

The _who_? Who were...? Ah yes, the oh-so-talented magical singing group who liked to be political with their lyrics.

 

‘So that's why you nearly wet yourself with laughter outside!' I said to Ron.

 

He smirked. ‘That and other things.'

 

Obviously I wasn't allowed to know about those _other_ things.

 

‘I can't believe _that_ made the front page of the _Prophet_!' I remarked scathingly.

 

‘Well, they are considered a very strong political voice in the Wizarding community. People take them seriously!' Ron replied.

 

‘How anyone can take a group of singers called ‘ _The Hot Harlots'_ seriously I have no idea. The name doesn't exactly give the impression that politics is the top of their agenda, does it?'

 

Harry grinned at me.

 

‘Hey, listen to this!' Harry said, still grinning.

 

‘ _The group released a statement which said that as well as having demonstrated the skill of wizards five times his age, Harry Potter also has wisdom in vast quantities and more importantly, boyish good looks which could charm the--'_

 

Harry stopped talking and Ron looked crestfallen.

 

‘Why've you stopped?' Ron asked in a screech.

 

‘Because _they_ did! Apparently their exact words weren't suitable for front page articles in the _Prophet_!'

 

Ron grinned.

 

‘So they do have _some_ limit on what they're prepared to print then!' I said.

 

Ron frowned at me. ‘Well, they do have a point.'

 

‘About what? Do his boyish good looks do it for you, Ron?' I asked with a smirk.

 

Ron instantly reddened and I allowed myself to giggle at the fact that I'd embarrassed him.

 

‘Not about _that_!'

 

‘Cheers mate!' Harry said, pretending to be offended.

 

‘You can shut up!' he replied at Harry before turning back to me. ‘I meant the other stuff.'

 

‘You think Harry's up to running the Ministry of Magic, do you?'

 

‘Yeah why not?'

 

I looked at Harry. ‘No offence Harry, but I hardly think anyone who is barely twenty years old would be able to be head of the Wizarding community with a great deal of success, however many dark wizards and witches they've fought.'

 

‘He'd do better than the pillock who's in charge now!' Ron retorted, obviously determined not to lose this argument.

 

‘Yes, he probably would, but that's not saying a great deal, is it?'

 

‘To be fair, I think Dobby'd be a better Minister for Magic than he would!' Harry added.

 

I smiled. However, I then remembered this morning and the way Ron had behaved in the coffee shop. Then I remembered why we'd been arguing. I glanced over at Ron and could practically see the same train of thought run through his mind, like it had done mine. I waited for the obvious question to come out of his mouth.

 

‘You still haven't told me what happened this morning,' he said with quite a bit of frustration.

 

Well, not a question, but still, the obvious thing to be said.

 

‘I know I haven't. I thought it would be better to tell the both of you at the same time and in private. If you remember Ron, I told you that this morning after you'd publicly embarrassed me, and yourself for that matter.'

 

‘What happened this morning?' Harry asked.

 

‘Nothing,' Ron mumbled. ‘Its not important.'

 

Harry sighed. I knew he was annoyed about us not telling him what had got us so annoyed with each other, but he seemed to swallow his anger.

 

‘So are you going to tell us what happened at Gringotts then?' Ron asked.

 

‘Yes I will. But before I do, I have to give you this, Harry.' I reached into my robes and pulled out a small envelope with Harry's name on the front.

 

‘What is it?' he asked.

 

‘I think it's a letter telling you the time when they would like you to go and collect the things Dumbledore left you. There's only a few things, trinkets really. They were declared in the meeting this morning and as you nominated me as your representative, I was given that to give to you.'

 

‘Oh right. What...er...what did he leave me?:'

 

I saw sadness fill his eyes.

 

‘As I said, just a few things. A few books, his Pensieve--I know you've had it for a while, but it's officially yours now. Er...I can't remember what else, I think it tells you in there.'

 

‘Okay, I'll have a look at it later.'

 

I took a deep breath and looked at Ron and Harry. They were both looking at me, only Harry was better at hiding his impatience then Ron.

 

‘He left most of his stuff to Hogwarts, to be used in lessons and such, his books are to be added to the library apart from the few he gave Harry and a few other people. He lived at Hogwarts, so there was no estate as such to leave to anyone. That was everything.'

 

‘What about his--' I looked at Ron and but he seemed to be having an internal battle as to whether he should finish his question or not.

 

‘What about his what?' I asked, slightly annoyed that I had been interrupted.

 

‘What about his gold?' Ron mumbled quietly.

 

I sighed but decided to answer the question...well as best as I could anyway. I hadn't really been listening at that point.

 

‘I'm not sure, to be honest. I was still reeling slightly from what I'd been told...and given.'

 

‘What was it, Hermione?' Harry asked kindly.

 

‘He...he left me--'

 

‘Sorry to interrupt, Mister Potter, but it's time for your daily medication.'

 

The three of us collectively sighed at the interruption from the formidable Mediwitch who had just walked into Harry's cubicle.

 

‘Can't it wait half an hour?' Harry said, obviously annoyed. ‘We've got important things to discuss!'

 

‘I doubt anything's more important than getting you better, Mister Potter.'

 

She walked behind Ron and up to the top of Harry's bed. Harry sagged down against his pillows and scowled.

 

‘Here's your--'

 

The Mediwitch had held out a small bottle of potion for Harry to drink and before she'd had the chance to tell him what he was about to take he'd downed it in one go. His eye twitched as he gave her back the bottle.

 

‘Right,' the Mediwitch said after she'd taken the bottle from him. ‘What's next?'

 

‘I know which order I have to take them in if you want to leave them with me. I've done it enough times already. You can get on with other things.'

 

The Mediwitch was unconvinced with Harry's offer and insisted on staying until Harry had finished every last potion, and there was eight in total. Finally after what seemed like hours, she left.

 

‘Sorry about that,' Harry mumbled. His left eye was still twitching, causing him to wink every few seconds.

 

‘You all right there, mate? Your eye's making me think you've taken a fancy to me.'

 

‘Ha bloody ha! It's a side-effect of the first potion, whichever one it is. Taking the rest with it doesn't help. Carry on, Hermione.'

 

I tried to hide my slight amusement at Harry's eye-twitching, but it soon disappeared as I relived what had happened in the meeting in my head.

 

‘Well...as I was trying to say, Dumbledore left me one thing. It was a huge surprise he'd left me anything at all, but to leave me something like that...'

 

I trailed off. I was still coming to terms with the information myself. It was...strange to say the least.

 

‘Hermione, are you doing this on purpose?' Harry asked.

 

I snapped out of my thoughts.

 

‘No, sorry. Well, Dumbledore left me...the one and only remaining Time Turner.'


	5. Chapter 5

"But why do you need another Time-Turner?" I blinked at Hermione.

 

"Yeah," Harry said with a frown, "didn't you give the other one back because it was too much to deal with?"

 

Hermione pressed her lips together so hard that they were almost white. I looked at Harry and we both prepared to be shouted at for whatever reason. She didn't shout; she let her breath out and slumped in her chair.

 

"It's not like my old Time-Turner. This one is for emergency use only and Dumbledore entrusted it with me, to use at my discretion, because he knew he had already explained all the dos and don'ts thoroughly."

 

"And because he trusts you not to be an idiot with it," Harry smiled, the corner of his mouth twitching.

 

Hermione seemed to be quite happy with that compliment and lowered her guard a bit. I decided to chance it and say something as well.

 

"Yeah, he knows you won't abuse the power and use it to win money on Quidditch matches and Troll wrestling and..." I frowned. "Well y'know, Christmas _is_ coming and none of us have jobs yet. Maybe just one little bet wouldn't hurt?"

 

Hermione glared at me.

 

I am an idiot.

 

"One day Ronald," she said to me as if she'd given up on me altogether, "one glorious day you'll think about money _last_."

 

"Look here, Hermione," I began, ignoring Harry's groan as he sank back down under the sheets and began to mumble something about me never letting things go, "I'm not totally shallow, y'know?"

 

Hermione said nothing, but her eyebrows rose and she clicked her tongue and looked pointedly at the wall beside her.

 

" _Some_ people didn't grow up with a rich Mummy and Daddy and no older brothers to have to share everything with. _Some_ people didn't ever once get something new that hadn't been owned by someone else until they were thirteen years old." I didn't know where this rant was coming from; all I knew was it was a long time coming. " _Some_ people aren't wedged between two attention seekers and the precious little princess to make them bloody well invisible."

 

"Hey, Ron, mate, c'mon," Harry shifted in his bed, uncomfortably.

 

"No, Harry, let him shout." Hermione said calmly.

 

"Oh, you want shouting, do you?" I said, raising my voice and feeling extraordinarily pissed off not to be getting a reaction from her. "I have no NEWTs, no job offers and no inheritance from anyone to fall back on while I re-sit the last year of school...which has to be paid for past the age of eighteen, don't you know? But of course, you didn't know that, because it doesn't matter to you, does it?"

 

Now she was looking at me. She looked as if I'd just drop kicked Crookshanks. Harry was looking upset as well.

 

"You can't afford to go back to school and take your NEWTs?" my best mate in all the world asked, sounding hollow.

 

I could feel my skin burning and willed my bloody face not to glow in that maddening way it does when I get wound up.

 

"No school, no NEWTs, no Auror programme..." I rattled off, looking into my lap to keep from having to look into their eyes. "Basically, you're looking at the next Stan Shunpike."

 

"What?" Hermione gasped, furiously.

 

"I need to earn some money and it's the only job you can get without qualifications, that and cleaning the bogs at the Leaky Cauldron."

 

"No," Harry said defiantly, "you're not doing it. I won't let you."

 

"What are you gonna do, Harry," I said with a scoff, "finger wrestle me?"

 

"I'm going to pay for you to go back with us an-"

 

"Oh no, you're bloody n-" I began, not realising when I had been having it, that my tantrum was going to lead to this inevitable outcome.

 

"Shut up and swallow your bloody pride for once in your life, Ron!" Harry barked. "You can pay me back but you're taking the money and that's final."

 

"So from useless sidekick to freeloader...fan-bloody-tastic!" I hissed and got up from the chair to have a bit of a pace.

 

Us Weasleys do like a bit of a pace when we're aggravated about something. 

 

"Ron, what have I told you about talking like that?" Hermione said as she jumped up to her feet and marched around Harry's bed to stand in front of me, blocking my path.

 

I folded my arms across my chest and resolved that it was better to say nothing rather than piss her off all over again. My silence pissed her off anyway. She hit me in the chest with both hands. I staggered backwards, not really with the force but just as an excuse to get her out of my face.

 

We were fighting, we were kissing, we were fighting again, she held my hand and now back to fighting. I'm getting too old for this shit.

 

"Look," she said, seeming to have put a lid on her boiling emotions, "you can make special arrangements to leave the castle every Saturday and work in Hogsmeade. You can pay Harry back week by week and when school's over you won't owe him anything."

 

That idea actually made me lift my eyes to look at her. She smiled at me with a look of determination that melted slightly into a smile.

 

"I s'pose that could work." I shrugged.

 

She sighed some of the tension out of her body and rubbed her hand up and down my arm. I don't quite know what it was supposed to do for me, but I liked it all the same. I chanced an apologetic smile and shifted from one foot to the other and she bit her lip before leaning in suddenly. It seemed as if she was about to give me a hug, but we both flinched apart when Harry cleared his throat.

 

"Um," he began apprehensively, "isn't that going to be difficult, though?"

 

"How so?" Hermione changed her posture back to her bossy, business-like stance and sat herself on the corner of Harry's bed.

 

"Well, y'know..." Harry shrugged and winced. "NEWTs are a lot of work and non-stop revision. Ron's supposed to have lessons and homework all week and then work all day Saturday? Isn't it a bit much, Hermione?"

 

"Oh!" I said, suddenly understanding everything at once and managing to articulate all my ideas in that one exclamation.

 

I looked at my friends as if they were supposed to understand exactly what I had just come to understand from nothing more than that little, excitable 'Oh!'. They didn't.

 

"Well, Hermione's got the Time-Turner and you're worried about me not having enough time..." I explained as if Harry had just had a bump on the head and needed to be spoken to very slowly.

 

"Um, well, that won't exactly wor-" Hermione was cringing as she spoke but Harry was on my case again before she could finish.

 

"Oh, come on, Ron. Hermione couldn't handle her workload with a Time-Turner, what makes you think you'll fare any better?"

 

"Well, I won't be doing extra classes, will I? That was Hermione's main problem last time," I said, wondering why Harry was raining on my parade.

 

That was Hermione's job.

 

"About the Time-Turner," Hermione said, a deep frown line forming across her forehead.

 

"No extra classes, but you'll be doing a Saturday job. It'll be exactly the same kind of obstacle, Ron. Think about it." Harry was huffing.

 

I swear that, if he could, he'd have been throwing his arms up into the air in exasperation.

 

"This is all a moot point, you two." Hermione was getting flustered.

 

I was already getting into this row with Harry so I waved her comment away to continue my debate with the bespectacled, bedridden one. 

 

"Well, that's the only way I'm taking your money so if you don't like it then...then I'll see you on the Knight Bus!"

 

"Please, will you both just listen?" Hermione jumped up from the bed and stepped between us but I could still see Harry perfectly well over the top of her head and he, me.

 

"You are such a stubborn git, Weasley!"

 

"And you cannot carry me through life!" 

 

"I'm not trying to do that."

 

"So, the boy who saves everybody isn't trying to save me from a shitty year in a demoralising job so I can pay my own way, huh?"

 

"Oh, throw that crap in my face, why don't you?" Harry said, looking hurt and peeved. "I don't _save_ people and I don't want to save you!"

 

"So let me do this or you can keep your money."

 

" _You can only use the Time-Turner once before it destroys itself and it will only go back exactly twenty-four hours, so this whole conversation is pointless!_ " Hermione screeched.

 

Harry and I froze and stared at her.

 

"Say that again..."

 

 


	6. Chapter 6

I sighed. I stood between Ron and Harry's bed and Ron had finally decided to look me in the eye. It's hard to get someone's attention by standing in front of them when that someone is Ron's height.

‘What did you say?' Ron added to Harry's question.

Great. For the whole time they were arguing, I had a lot to say but now that they're both glaring at me, I seem to have lost my tongue. 

I took a deep breath and closed my eyes, concentrating on repeating what I had just said at a speed the tall one and the immobile one would understand.

‘You can only use the Time Turner _once_ ,' I paused letting this fact sink in a little before continuing, ‘before it destroys itself,' again I paused, ‘and it'll only take the user back twenty-four hours.'

I could practically see my words hanging in the air in front of me. Ron was just staring at me, open mouthed. After all he'd said in the past few minutes, it wouldn't surprise me if he'd talked himself out.

‘Well, that sucks my idea down the bog then, doesn't it?'

Apparently not.

For once, I didn't reprimand him on his choice of phrase, after all, his one chance of being able to cope with N.E.W.T work and a Saturday job had, well...actually his phrase did sum it up quite well.

‘Are you sure, Hermione?' Harry asked.

I turned round and glared at him.

‘Actually Harry, no, now you mention it, maybe I did phase out when they went over the minor points in intricate detail. I'm sure I imagined the whole can-only-use-once-will-destroy-itself-after-it's-sent-you-back-twenty-four-hours part!'

Harry's shoulders twitched and I'm sure it was his natural instinct of raising his arms - well, trying to - to defend himself from my words, kicking in. Shame he couldn't actually do it. His natural defenses resorted to turning his face away from me ever-so-slightly.

‘Alright, alright! I'm sorry, of course you're sure! It was stupid of me to think you'd have got that wrong.'

I smirked and turned away from them both to sit back on my chair.

Ron followed my lead and slumped down in his too. He went quiet. He was sulking.

As much as he'd not believe me if I said it, I understood why.

‘Look Ron, we'll think of something. We always do. You know I'll help you as much as I can with your work, both of you in fact, and you two can help me relax when I'm stressing like I'm bound to, and we'll sort out the...the money somehow.'

‘I'm not a charity case,' he mumbled.

‘We know you're not, but it wouldn't hurt to swallow just a bit of your pride and let us help you sort this out, however we end up doing that.'

He was about to argue the point so I got in there before he could.

‘For _our_ sakes if nothing else!'

‘I...what do you mean?'

‘Well, I'm not sure but I think Harry'll feel the same as I do. I don't think I'd be able to go back and be happy if you weren't there.'

I smiled at him but I grew concerned when he didn't return it. I glanced at Harry and I could tell from him expression that he thought I'd said the right thing.

‘So you're gonna force me to borrow money off Harry so you two can feel alright about going back to school? That's emotional blackmail!'

I let my head fall forwards and I growled in frustration. When I eventually raised my head and looked at Harry, I saw he'd thrown himself back on his pillows again.

‘So, Hermione, is there anything else about this Time-Turner that we should know about?'

He was changing the subject and ignoring a smouldering Ron, which was fine by me.

‘Not that I know of. I think it's a kind of, ‘in severe emergency only' Time-Turner. I'm actually...I'm actually kind of nervous about being responsible for it. It's daunting to say the least!'

Harry nodded. ‘That's understandable. You could always put it in Gringotts I suppose.'

‘Hmm, I thought of that, but what if - Merlin forbid - I need it and I can't get to the bloody thing ‘cause it's safely hidden away?'

‘Language, Hermione!' Ron said with a smirk. Apparently his quiet patch didn't stretch to not saying annoying comments aimed at me!

‘Well, if it's any consolation I don't think there should be much reason to use it now everything's happened- Ah!'

‘What is it?' I asked, slightly concerned by Harry's exclamation.

‘Nothing, don't panic! I'm just getting pins and needles in another finger!'

I couldn't help but chuckle.

Harry looked at me sternly. ‘I'm glad my unbearable pain is amusing to you!'

‘Oh, don't be such a drama queen, Harry! You've got pins and needles; it's not as if your finger is under the Cruciatus curse!'

‘When you haven't felt _anything_ in a finger for days, Hermione, it bloody well feels like it is!

I smirked at him and shook my head.

‘So, where are you going to keep it then?' Ron asked with a sigh.

I turned to look at him.

‘I don't know yet. I thought, maybe when we go back to school,' Ron tensed but I carried on, this was getting annoying, ‘ _when we go back to school,'_ I took a deep breath, ‘I'll ask McGonagall to keep it somewhere safe, or to give me a box or enchanted cupboard to hide it in.'

Harry nodded in agreement. Ron didn't move.

‘So, what are you two up to this afternoon?' Harry asked in a forced cheery tone.

I looked at Ron and watched him shrug at Harry.

‘Wow, don't overwhelm me with enthusiasm, I might not cope in my fragile state!' Harry said.

‘Dunno,' Ron replied. ‘Might go for a fly or just cabbage at The Burrow.'

‘Ron, I did not lose the feeling in my arms so you could sit on your arse all day! Get out and enjoy your freedom, for Merlin's sake! I wish I bloody could!'

‘Yeah? Well, you have a life to look forward to, don't you? For some of us, things are a little less certain. Not all of us have Mummy and Daddy's inheritance to look forward to!'

I inhaled sharply at Ron's comment. I had a feeling he had just taken one step too far. No, that's a lie, I didn't have a feeling he had, I knew he had.

Harry went red and took a few deep breaths. For a few seconds, Ron looked a little nervous, although I don't think he meant to show it. He'd set his jaw in that determined ‘I'm not going to back down' kind of way. 

_This wasn't going to be pretty._

‘Ron,' Harry said in too calm a tone. ‘Be _very_ glad I don't have full use of my arms. Until I do, I'll have to settle for this.'

He stayed stock-still and I wondered what he was doing. Then I glanced at his right hand and watched as he straightened out his middle finger. The finger he'd just got the feeling back in.

Ron looked at Harry's gesture and took a deep breath. He looked at Harry for a second and then got to his feet. He turned and walked calmly out of the ward.

Well, this afternoon was going to be _fantastic_. Fan-bloody-tastic!'


	7. Chapter 7

I was striding down the street, wet and freezing due to me having stormed out of St Mungo's without my cloak, and kicking myself for being such a prat.

 

It would never work, borrowing money from Harry; just the discussion of it had led to me insulting both of my closest and most forgiving friends. I had to come up with something else. Putting school off for a year wasn't an option; Harry wouldn't let me get away with that. Hermione's Time-Turner was going to be of no help to me.

 

What was the point of taking the N.E.W.T's just to fail them spectacularly?  
 

 

I'd never been that impressive in classes, all going back to complete my education would do was to highlight just how mediocre I was academically. I didn't test well, not smart on paper at all, and it was a great source of annoyance to me, too. Why should my intelligence be judged by how much I was able to memorise and regurgitate for two hours on a summer afternoon?

 

Oh, who was I kidding?

 

If the qualification was based solely on my work throughout the year, I'd still be average at best. I'd only be taking the N.E.W.T's because it was what was expected of me. What would I do with my half dozen 'Acceptable' qualifications? I'd more than likely still end up on the bloody Knight Bus.

 

I'd be the most qualified Knight Bus conductor in the history of the Knight Bus...there it is, there's my claim to fame.

 

Ronald Weasley, Harry Potter's best mate, Fred and George's guinea pig, most above average person ever to work for the Magical Stagecoach Company, and Hermione Granger's... Hermione Granger's...

 

Hermione.

 

I'd stopped walking and was standing in the middle of the crossroads between Diagon Alley and Knockturn Alley, my arms folded across my chest and my clothes soaked through to the skin. I shivered and wiped the drip from the end of my numb nose.

 

"Where the fuck am I going?" I said with a disheartened shake of the head.

 

I really needed a Butterbeer to warm my insides up but as soon as I left the middle of the road and stepped up onto the kerb, my head dropped. My money was in my cloak and my cloak was at the hospital and I was not going to turn back for anything in the world. I couldn't face Harry.

 

Merlin, I was a twat!

 

I may as well have said, _'Lucky for you with your dead parents and full pockets...I wish I was an orphan, too_!'

 

I shuddered at that thought. Then I thought of the kitchen at The Burrow and my mum baking something warn and filling. I couldn't remember the last time I'd just sat with my mother in The Burrow and chatted with her. I looked into the pub and figured that they might not object to letting me use their Floo to go home and get some home comforts.

 

I was a bloody war hero, for crying out loud.

 

I puffed out my chest and took a step towards the door before I heard a voice I knew and hated.

 

"But this is too public. This is too soon. Our numbers are low and our master is gone forever. Let's just go into hiding, eh?"

 

"That treacherous little coward," I snarled, my hand white with cold on the brass door handle, water dripping down to my elbow and my mind realising that this was a Dark Wizard's pub.

 

I wanted to go inside and give Wormtail a good kicking but I also didn't want to go into a pub full of conspiring Death Eaters with a grudge against Harry Potter and The Order of the Phoenix. Being Harry's right hand man and a member of the Order, I'd definitely not be too popular.

 

They definitely wouldn't let me use their fireplace to go home.

 

I let go of the brass door handle and took a step backwards, foot sinking deep into a puddle, and heaved a sigh. I wondered who to go and tell about this. Something was clearly brewing, one last hurrah from the sore losers.

 

Ordinarily, I'd go straight to Harry but what could he do right now? Hermione thought I was an utter dick, she was out of the question. I blinked the water that weighted down my eyelashes and peered further up the street. I saw the explosion of colour and light and life. I even managed a smile.

 

Fred and George would know what to do and who to call. I could dry off there and we could warn Dad at the ministry and Lupin at the Order and Tonks at Auror HQ. Yeah, Wheezes was the place to go right now.

 

I shook my sodden shoe and squelched on down the road just as I heard a crack that could only have been thunder. I wondered if my luck would change for the better or worse today. I wondered if it was for better or for worse that lighting would strike me. I wondered...

 

"Don't fucking move, lanky!" a harsh male voice snarled as something jabbed hard between my ribs and a pair of powerful arms forced my arms behind my back.

 

"What the f--" I began to exclaim loudly but my right arm twisted painfully and the wand at my back sent a silencing spell into me.

 

"Quick, the Alley," the gruff voice snapped to his muscle man. "We can't be seen with him. _He_ can't be seen by anyone."

 

As I was dragged through the driving rain, rain that oh so conveniently kept the street empty, and into a darkened side street off Knockturn Alley, I began kicking out wildly. I couldn't reach my wand and I couldn't feel my fingers, it was so cold, so scrapping was all I had. I did pretty well. I kicked one of my assailant's legs out from under them and he fell on top of me onto the hard cobbled floor.

 

" _Compescor_!" the gruff voice snarled and my legs and arms were bound tightly.

 

I swore silently as I was thrown face down into the darkened alleyway with a splash. I lifted my face out of the puddle I lay in and coughed. There was a new voice and the rain was hammering against a metal dustbin lid like a steel drum. I tried to get up but I had no purchase on anything and had no other course of action than to just roll over in the puddle and pant heavily into the storm clouds and driving rain. The fat water droplets hit my eyes with such force they stung and I had to close my eyes.

 

I strained to listen to the frantic conversation. I was willing to bet Wormtail's voice was going to be there, that I'd been seen eavesdropping outside the pub. It wasn't a male voice though.

 

"I said you weren't to hurt him," a woman hissed sharply.

 

"You wanted him, we brought him. Where's our money?" the other man said, sounding a bit thick. He was obviously a Crabbe and Goyle style muscle-man.

 

"I didn't want him roughed up!" the harsh sounding woman said again.

 

I decided to try and squint through the rain and see if it was somebody I recognised. I could only make out three heavily robed figures in heated conference, huddled together. I wriggled in the puddle and tried to feel for my wand with my icy fingertips.

 

"Look, you pointed him out, said to bring him and not take no for an answer, now pay!" the larger man said.  
 

 

The other spun around and pulled me up by the front of my shirt and threw me into a wall. I felt the wand forced into the base of my neck and tried to wriggle free but the stronger man was holding me again and the gruff wizard concentrated on holding me at wand point.

 

"What's he worth to you?"

 

"What?" the smaller figure, the woman said just as a crash sounded somewhere at the far end of the alleyway.

 

I still couldn't place any of the voices I was hearing and the rain blinded me even more than before.

 

"You wanted him. You don't want to see him roughed-up. I figure you want him enough to pay double." the gruff man sounded as if he was smirking.

 

"We agreed on a price!" the livid woman said, outrage seeming to stiffen her whole body.

 

"And we just upped it!" The wizard dug his wand even harder into the back of my neck and a red-hot spark burnt my skin.

 

I yelped without making a sound and the burlier man shoved me even harder into the wall.

 

"You get nothing if you hurt him," the woman said fiercely.

 

"Ron!" 

 

I blinked and tried to turn my head to warn Hermione not to come running down the darkened alleyway. I had to warn her there were three of them and they were armed. I had to warn her that there were Death Eaters at the far end of the street and Wormtail was among them.

 

She had to stay away. She had to run away.

 

"Let him go!" She was screaming as her footsteps clip clopped rapidly down the alleyway.

 

"Take the money, give him to me!" the robed woman said urgently and coins bounced off the cobbles.

 

" _Accio_ _Galleons_!" the gruff wizard said, the wand tip leaving my neck.

 

" _Stupefy_!" Hermione screeched as the alleyway was illuminated with light.

 

I was pulled away from the damp wall and shoved in the back towards the smaller robed figure before the gruff voice growled at the woman who caught and steadied me.

 

"You set us up, you bitch. _Oppugno_!"

 

Something hit me hard in the back and everything was black.

 

 

 


	8. Chapter 8

‘Let...him...go...' I managed to say calmly, which was amazing in itself as my heart was pumping adrenaline through me at a ferocious pace.

 

The hooded figure stared at me then started mumbling under her breath.

 

‘LET HIM GO!' I screeched.

 

I knew she - well, I thought it was a she - had her wand in her hand and I knew she was putting more spells on Ron.

 

Her eyes locked on mine but her lips didn't stop moving.

 

‘ _Impedimenta!_ ' I screamed down the alleyway.

 

She instantly put up a shield and the curse deflected back towards me. Luckily, it hit the wall beside me.

 

‘What do you want with him?' I asked her. She stopped mumbling and looked at me. I squinted and tried to see her face, but her hood sent awkward shadows across her face.

 

Again she mumbled something, but it seemed to be in response to my question as opposed to hexing Ron some more.

 

‘ _What?_ ' I snapped.

 

She ignored my demand but seemed to lose her composure because she slammed her foot on the ground.

 

It was this that took my attention from her wand and it was this that let her hex me with the Confundus Charm.

 

I swayed dangerously and fell to my knees.

 

‘No!' I managed to whisper.

 

I knew I had to concentrate on Ron, but I was beginning to forget why. I had to help him, but...but the woman holding him looked like she was helping him. Maybe she'd help me.

 

I fell to the side and felt pain shoot through my hand, I looked down and saw red on the floor, but I didn't know what it was from.

 

Movement ahead of me made me look up. The kind lady was putting Ron on the floor, obviously he was better and didn't need to hold him up anymore.

 

She was looking at him and stroking the hair off his face, but then my head spun badly and I fell forward into the concrete. I registered pain in my cheek and then I felt something hit the top of my head. My eyes closed and I felt no more.

 

* * *

 

‘...personal identification cards on them?'

 

‘I found one in his jacket pocket, but I haven't checked her yet.'

 

‘I think I recognise them. Aren't they the two who keep visiting Potter upstairs?'

 

‘Ronald Bilius Weasley, apparently!'

 

‘Yeah, that's him.'

 

I managed to open my eyes a crack and finally put faces - well, moving blotches - to the voices that were invading my ears.

 

I tried to lift my head off the pillow but the pain that went through every inch of it made me abandon my attempts. I settled for listening for a bit longer.

 

‘Right, well the emergency contact for Ronald Bilius Weasley is Harry Potter and Hermione Granger.'

 

‘Well,, considering Potter is upstairs and it's always these two visiting him, I'll put good money on this being Hermione Granger. Hang on, here's her card. Yep! Hermione Jane Granger, emergency contacts...drum role please...Ronald Bilius Weasley and Harry Potter. Helpful lot aren't they!'

 

I coughed to get someone to pay attention to the fact that I was awake. No one seemed to notice.

 

Well, if people insist I lay here on this nice comfy bed then fair enough. Ron would do the same! Wait _Ron_!

 

I sat bolt upright and immediately regretted it. My head pounded but I had more important things to worry about, although it was very had to ignore the throbbing.

 

‘Where's...Ron?' I managed to stammer out. I opened my eyes fully for the first time and rubbed my eyes with the back of my bandaged hand.

 

_What did I do to my hand?'_

 

‘Miss Granger, please, lie down. You're not in any fit state to be up and about,' the least harsh of the earlier voices I had heard said kindly.

 

‘I don't care! I need to know if Ron's alright!'

 

‘Hermione?'

 

My heart jumped when I recognised Ron's voice.

 

‘Ron?'

 

‘Miss Granger, _please!'_ the more formidable witch said. I looked at her and recognised her as the Mediwitch who had refused to leave Harry alone with his medication earlier.

 

‘Crap!' I muttered.

 

‘Hermione, are you okay?' Ron shouted again.

 

I went to answer but was silenced by a harsh look from the Mediwitch.

 

‘Get off me! I'm fine. I need to check on Hermione!'

 

My heart soared; obviously Ron didn't have a very harsh looking witch bearing down on him. The curtain that had been separating our beds was wrenched back and Ron walked up to my bed. He pulled me into a hug which made my head pound again but I didn't care.

 

‘Are you okay?' he asked frantically, looking me up and down for visible injuries. ‘I tried to warn you, I tried to tell you to not get involved but...I couldn't.'

 

His voice broke and he coughed to try and cover it up.

 

‘It wouldn't have mattered if you did; I wasn't going to leave you there. You know I couldn't have left you.'

 

‘Still, I didn't want you to get hurt.'

 

‘I didn't-'

 

At that second, my head gave another painful throb and I couldn't ignore it. My grip on Ron's arm tightened involuntarily.

 

‘What? What is it? Where does it hurt? Haven't you given her anything for the pain yet?' he barked at the Mediwitch.

 

A braver man would have cowered under the stare the formidable woman was giving Ron, but all credit to him, he held his own.

 

‘She had only just woken up when you came barging in here, Mister Weasley! We would have sorted her out by now had you stayed where you were supposed to!'

 

‘Well, can't you give her something now? She's practically dying here!'

 

Merlin, he _was_ brave!

 

The formidable Mediwitch huffed and puffed for a few seconds before walking to the trolley at the end of my bed and pouring out a bright blue potion for me to take.

 

‘Down in one go!' she said to me when she had walked back up to my end of the bed.

 

I was sure that wasn't necessary but I wasn't feeling as brave as Ron, so as carefully as I could without giving my head another reason to pound, I took the potion in one swallow.

 

‘Thanks,' I mumbled as I handed her back the bottle.

 

She made an indignant ‘Hmph' as she turned away.

 

‘Mister Weasley, I must insist that you leave Miss Granger alone to rest, as you should, too.'

 

‘Can't I just sit with her. I'm okay; I was told that the second after the Healer revived me. Obviously, I'm not feeling unwell or I'd have collapsed by now! I promise I won't disturb her.'

 

‘Please,' I added, hoping this would sway her. She didn't look like she was about to be swayed.

 

She went to open her mouth but the other Mediwitch who had already re-made Ron's bed got there before she had the chance.

 

‘That's fine, Mister Weasley, just be sure to tell one of us if you start to feel unwell.'

 

‘Thanks!' Ron said with a beaming smile.

 

He sat down on the chair that was next to my bed and propped his feet on the edge. I couldn't help but giggle, then I realised he was only wearing a hospital gown and he wasn't completely covered.

 

‘Er...Ron...'

 

‘Yeah?'

 

‘Er...your gown is er...well...airy!'

 

I laid back down and stifled another giggle as Ron made sure he was completely covered, after he had turned a brilliant shade of red.

 

The nicer Mediwitch walked over to us from the other side of the ward and smiled at me.

 

‘Do you want me to tell your other friend...Mister Potter...that you're here? He's the other person on your identification cards, isn't he?'

 

‘Yes, he is, and that would be great, thanks. I don't suppose you could bring him down here, could you? He'll only panic if he can't see we're alright for himself.'

 

Okay, that wasn't strictly true, if he was told we were fine then he'd probably be all right until he could see us, but we had to tell him what had happened.

 

‘After everything we've been through...'  I trailed off. I was getting far too good at playing the mentally scarred war hero.

 

‘Of course, Miss Granger.'

 

‘Call me Hermione, please.'

 

‘Okay, I'll see what I can do.'

 

‘Thank you.'

 

I glanced over at Ron as the Mediwitch walked out of the ward. He seemed to have recovered from his embarrassment and had returned to his normal colour, almost.

 

I wondered how to phrase my next question without sounding accusing.

 

‘Ron, why were you at the entrance to Knockturn Alley?'

 

I closed my eyes. _Yeah, needed more thinking time, Hermione._

 

‘I wasn't doing anything wrong! I'd just been walking and I ended up there! I was actually going to go inside the pub and ask if I could use their fireplace so I could Floo _home_. What do you think I was doing there?'

 

This was _not_ what my recently confounded brain needed.

 

‘I'm sorry, I wasn't accusing you of anything, I was just wondering why you were in the place where you were attacked that's all. Whether it was a coincidence or whether someone was following you. You're the one who taught me to look at every possible angle of every situation!'

 

Ron slumped back in his seat and folded his arms across his chest. He went to prop his legs on the bed again, but stopped when he remembered what had happened the last time that he had.

 

‘Please tell me there will be a time when I can walk in on you two and you won't be arguing!'

 

I turned round to see Harry sitting awkwardly in an enchanted wheelchair that Harry seemed to be controlling with his wand. Apparently, he now had the use of enough fingers for him to be able to hold it and wave it properly.

 

‘You got here bloody quickly!' Ron answered.

 

‘You shut up! I'm still pissed off with you for what you said earlier!'

 

Ron scowled and resumed his previous position - his sulking stance.

 

‘Merlin, you two can't even walk through Diagon Alley without causing trouble!'

 

‘We didn't start it, Harry!' I said in reply.

 

‘Well, what did happen then?' he demanded.

 

I looked back round at Ron and shrugged.

 

‘Thought you weren't talking to me!' he said with the maturity of a three-year-old.

 

‘I'm not, but that doesn't stop you talking to me. Now tell me what happened. Now!

 


	9. Chapter 9

"Okay, well the first thing you need to know, that everybody needs to know, is that Wormtail's back and he's got some mates gearing up to attack."

 

Harry and Hermione just stared at me. I looked away. What else was there to say? 

 

"You saw him?" Harry asked eventually.

 

"I heard him," I said, avoiding the steely glare Hermione was giving me. "The pub I was gonna Floo from, it was full of Death Eaters and Wormtail was there, too. It sounded like he was bottling it, the coward."

 

"So Death Eaters caught you?" Hermione said, her voice sounded very rough and I glanced at her before looking back at Harry.

 

"I'm sorry...about before. I'm having a really bad day," I mumbled. That's an understatement, Ron!

 

Harry raised his eyebrows and looked at me as if he was going to make me grovel. Then he let out the breath he'd been holding and shrugged at me.

 

"It's hard to stay angry at you when somebody just tried to kill you, mate."

 

I frowned and glanced at Hermione again.

 

"Thing is...Hermione, did it look like the woman was...? Did it look like she wanted to hurt me?"

 

Hermione's face seemed to flicker with a memory before she set her jaw and straightened the sheets of her bed.

 

"Well, I was confounded, wasn't I, so I can't really say. Though I did think, before I blacked out that is--I did think she was being very gentle with you."

 

"She didn't want me roughed-up," I said to myself as I remembered parts of the confrontation in the alleyway.

 

"Who? Ron, who was this woman?" Harry asked, gripping his wand for no other reason than it was all he could physically do right then.

 

I shook my head and looked to Hermione to see if she'd seen her. She was waiting for me to fill in all her blanks though and wasn't forthcoming with any descriptions. I shifted in my seat and tugged at the flimsy piece of cotton that wasn't doing a hell of a lot for either modesty or masculinity.

 

"The two big guys, she was arguing with them over me. She'd paid them to bring me in and when they got a bit heavy-handed, she wasn't happy at all. She told them not to hurt me and they tried to squeeze her for more money. It's like she was buying me."

 

I looked at Hermione again and she seemed to be cold, either that or she was visibly shaking with anger or fear over what could have happened if she hadn't come along.

 

"So, it wasn't...they weren't after money from you?" Harry said with a suspicious expression on his face.

 

"You what?" I frowned at my best mate.

 

Harry looked me hard in the eye and his lips tightened to such an extent that they were hardly visible at all.

 

"They wanted money _for_ you and not _from_ you right, Ron?" Harry said sternly.

 

"I think we've already agreed I _have_ no money, Harry!" I found myself snapping.

 

"Yeah and it's never made you lash out at me like you did earlier on, either. Money makes you all sullen and quiet, not abusive."

 

"I said I was so--" I began, throwing my arms into the air.

 

"Were they loan sharks?" Harry blurted.

 

I stared at him in disbelief.

 

_He really thought that of me?_

 

_He really thought my ego was so colossal that I'd go to Dark wizards for money to go to school?_

 

"Ron?" Hermione leaned forward and looked into my eyes. She looked mortified.

 

She believed that of me, too.

 

"I'm gonna get dressed." I said numbly as I got up from my chair and tugged at the curtain behind me.

 

"Sit your arse down, Weasley!" Harry snapped and flicked his wand at my chair. 

 

It slammed into the back of my legs and knocked me back in to it. I felt my ears and the back of my neck burning and scowled at Harry for not letting this go.

 

"I don't owe anybody any money and I won't owe you any either if that's what you're worried about!" I snarled through my gritted teeth.

 

"Let that go for one second and tell us what on earth happened to you out there?" Hermione said, her voice hitching with emotion.

 

"I told you!" I snapped. "I went for a walk. I stopped at a pub to Floo home. I heard Wormtail, so I didn't go inside. I was walking to the twins' place to alert people to the attack they were planning in the pub. Some bloke stuck a wand in my back. I got shoved into a dark alley and some woman argued with the big guys over payment for me. That's when you showed up and got yourself hurt, you dozy mare!" I nodded towards Hermione.

 

"You were caught in the middle of a duel," Hermione said fiercely, almost protectively. "You were hit in the back. Of course, I tried to help you."

 

"Well, you obviously didn't, did you?" I heard myself saying before I could stop myself.

 

"Excuse me?" Hermione's gasped, face falling.

 

I nodded to her bandaged wrist before looking down at my hands and tugging at the hem of the stupid gown thing again.

 

"What is wrong with you today?" Harry asked, eyes full of hurt on Hermione's behalf.

 

I got up from my seat again and shoved it away so Harry wouldn't be able to do his little trick again. 

 

" _I'm_ the prat," I said with a bitter smile. "I sometimes forget that I'm _always_ the prat."

 

I almost ripped the curtain off the rail as I pushed it aside and stepped through to gather my still wet clothes from beside the bed. Performing a drying and warming charm, I thought back to that moment before Hermione went into Gringotts that morning.

 

She's flung herself at me many a time, but this morning was different. She was so happy to see me. I thought she must have had fantastic news from Dumbledore's will but she was just talking about me. She was hugging me and running her hands all over me as if she didn't believe I was really there, and then she kissed me.

 

She _really_ kissed me. It wasn't like a peck on the lips--it was a _real_ kiss and it felt as if she meant it.

 

She cupped my face in her hands as she broke away and she was crying and smiling and then she told me she liked me. She said she _really_ liked me. Then she shoved me away before I could say anything and ran off blubbering something about how she shouldn't be there and it being wrong.

 

The next time I saw her, she was different. She acted as if nothing had happened. She glared at me as if I had boils all over my face when I leaned over the table and kissed her back.

 

But, of course, this was all somehow my fault.

 

"Ron?" Harry had levitated his chair over to a small opening in my curtains and peered through cautiously.

 

"I'm going to the Ministry to tell them what I heard. I'll come visit you again tomorrow," I mumbled.

 

"Ron, are you okay? No--I know you're not okay but can you please tell me why you're not okay?"

 

"Why don't you ask _her_?" I said as I waved at the closed curtain that divided my bed from Hermione's. "Ask _her_ why I'm more than okay at eight o'clock and suddenly I'm not so okay at eleven?"

 

Harry blinked at me and looked over to what was obviously his view of Hermione sitting up in her bed.

 

"I don't understand, Ron." Harry frowned and shook his head.

 

I pulled on the last of my clothing and put my wand in my back pocket.

 

"You and me both." 

 

With that I walked out of the ward in search of a fireplace.

 

\---

 

Y'know those stories you hear your mother tell about you fifty odd times a year for your whole life? Those stories you hate? Stories that make you cringe and sigh and roll your eyes and cause your soul to scream in pain when somebody asks her to re-tell it yet again?

 

Well, having to tell the story of my walk in the rain was one of those stories.

 

I'd told Harry and Hermione and then I told my dad. Then Dad took me to his superior to tell them, then his superior's superior, then a committee of superiors and after that, my dear old dad took me to tell the Aurors. After I told the Aurors, I had to tell the Order. Then Dad sat me down and pushed a Butterbeer into my hands and asked me if I was sure I'd told them everything I remembered.

 

"Well, y'know what? After the sixtieth time I think I might have omitted something huge like the name and address and a signed photograph of the three nutters in the darkened alley. Thank goodness you probed further Dad, I would have never have thought to mention it otherwise!"

 

My dad has always been the best person in the family at dealing with me.

 

He bit back a comment and sat back, folding his arms with a gentle smile before speaking softly and kindly to me.

 

"Keep going, Son."

 

I huffed and took a swig from my bottle before banging it down onto the table and hissing as it foamed over my hand. Dad had a handkerchief in his hand in an instant and was offering it to me. I took it and cleaned up the spill and myself.

 

"Sorry." I said dejectedly.

 

"No, I said keep going."

 

Merlin, I love that man sometimes.

 

I dumped my elbows down on the table and rubbed my face hard before growling into my hands and gripping my hair with frustration.

 

"It's just that I'm the only person to come out of this war less of a man then when I went in. I have officially become pathetic. I can't even have a proper conversation with my friends anymore. I feel like whole parts of my life didn't really happen at all. I harboured a bloody traitor in my bed for years and he's still alive now and plotting to hurt more people. I'm getting bought and sold on the soddin' street by who bloody knows? And Hermione, she looked at me like...like I was..."

 

My head dropped. I'd finally run out of steam.

 

My dad patted me on the back and I hugged him.

 

"I don't wanna be the pathetic loser, Dad," I said, my eyes burning. "I don't want to be the tag-along one. In years to come, what'll the history books say about me? Ron Weasley...the other one."

 

My dad was shushing me and patting the back of my head. Oh shit, I should be way past crying on my dad's shoulder by now. This is really humiliating.

 

"You know you are talking nonsense, don't you my boy?" He sighed.

 

I gave a watery chuckle into his dampening robes and nodded.

 

"As ever."

 

I felt his hand rubbing up and down my back and I began to take deep breaths to pull myself together again.

 

"Why don't you tell them?" he said as I eventually sat back again and wiped my face with the back of my hand.

 

"They already know I'm a git." I shrugged.

 

Dad grabbed my wrist and fixed me with a hard look.

 

"Harry's still recovering and Hermione's such a sensitive soul. They won't judge you. I'm sure they have this post-traumatic stress thingamabob as well, you know?"

 

"Dad, don't..." I shook my head.

 

He lifted my chin and held my face in place to force me to look him in the eye.

 

"The three of you suffered a lot in the final battle and now you get a blast from the past like Pettigrew showing up and seconds later getting a wand in your ribs." Dad looked so old and sad for a brief moment. "You need to talk to your friends, Ron."

 

"Not Harry. He feels guilty if someone he loves gets a splinter." I grumbled.

 

Dad chortled and ruffled my hair. I took another deep breath and let it out.

 

"Hermione doesn't want me," I said hoarsely. "I tried...I asked, well I didn't ask but I...I tried. She doesn't want me."

 

"Are you sure about that, Son?"

 

I thought back to the look on her face at the cafe after I'd kissed her. I nodded.

 

Dad slapped his hands onto his lap and grunted as he got to his feet. I looked up at him as he smiled down at me. Our perspectives were just the same as when I was a little boy and he seemed like the biggest, strongest man in the world.

 

"Drink up, my lad, and I'll go and make you a Portkey home alright?"

 

"Dad," I shook my head, "I can Apparate. It's fine."

 

"You can but you won't," Dad said firmly. "You're going home via a Portkey of my own making into my own house. Somebody went for you just walking down the street and they're still out there, Ron. I'm not taking any chances."

 

I smiled and nodded before taking another swig from my Butterbeer. Dad left the room, locking it behind him. 

 

I sniffed and wiped my face again, embarrassed at my behaviour. It was not the behaviour of a grown man, that was for sure. That was when I heard it. There was another sniff but it wasn't from me this time.

 

Somebody else was in the room and they were crying.

 

I put the bottle down and called out stupidly.

 

"Hello?"

 

There was a sharp intake of breath and then nothing.

 

I drew my wand and got up out of my seat slowly. All those years sneaking around under an Invisibility Cloak gives you a sixth sense about noticing these kinds of things.

 

"What the hell do you want?" I spat out in annoyance.

 

I jumped as warm breath stroked the back of my neck and somebody whispered into my ear.

 

"Somebody's got to look after you."

 

An arm curled around my waist and I felt myself being side-along Disapparated with a loud crack.

 

 

 


	10. Chapter 10

I had discharged myself from the hospital about twenty minutes after Ron had stormed out. There was nothing wrong with me. I'd put up with a lot more than a Confundus charm before without any medical help, and the pain relief was still doing its job.

 

Harry really didn't want me to leave, he said it was because I should be resting, but I knew that he just didn't want to be left alone to mull over what had happened to Ron. He might drive himself mad if he did.

 

I couldn't stay at the hospital though; I had some thinking of my own to do.

 

I didn't know whether to go after Ron or not, but if I'm honest with myself, I couldn't face him. I just didn't understand why he was snapping at everything. Mind you, I didn't exactly help the situation when I echoed Harry's suspicions that he had gone to a loan shark to borrow money. In hindsight, of course, I knew that he wouldn't do something like that, but after his behaviour today I just...didn't know anymore.

 

Ron's behaviour.

 

Merlin was that a puzzler. The way he kissed me during breakfast caught me off guard. I'm past denying my feelings for Ron. I've wasted far too much energy on that in the past, but for one reason or another, a war for example, we just never got round to making anything official.

 

We're only a couple of weeks after that final battle; I don't want to press anything. We're all still adjusting to the new way things are. Harry's up and down and Ginny's not much better. I'm sure if one of them would just talk to the other, it would make that situation a whole lot better.

 

But their problems with communication were not my main concern.

 

I walked for a while through Muggle London. Over the years, the streets had become a comfortable sanctuary from the Wizarding world. Although, the fact that they had become familiar to me because I've visited the hospital many times, wasn't so comforting. I had visited that hospital more times than one person should ever have to visit a hospital. 

 

I turned down a side alley that Ron would more than likely have stopped me going down if he were with me, but the thought that it might not be safe didn't cross my mind. It wasn't until I was lying on top of a huddle on the floor that I noticed it.

 

‘Any spare change, luv?' he grunted.

 

Normally, I would just say, ‘no, sorry' and carry on, but today I stopped and rummaged in my pocket, keeping my distance, just in case.

 

I pulled out a handful of wizard coins and hastily shoved them back in my pocket before the man saw.

 

I saw his questioning glare at my pocketed hand.

 

‘They're foreign coins,' I said quietly.

 

‘Been on holiday, ‘ave ya?' he asked kindly.

 

‘Yeah,' I replied. ‘Something like that.'

 

I dug deep in my other pocket and felt a scrunched up piece of paper. I pulled it out and saw it was a grubby five pound note. I thought for a second and then held it out to the man.

 

He hesitated before taking it from me.

 

‘Cheers, luv.'

 

‘You're welcome.'

 

I walked through the passageway and emerged in the street on the other side.

 

Money.

 

That's what everything comes down to. Well, at the minute it seemed to be what my problems revolved around. That and Ron's stubbornness.

 

I stepped off the pavement onto the road to walk round a group of friends who took up the whole pavement. As I landed off the small drop, my whole body jarred. Pain shot through my spine and into my head, making me clamp my eyes shut and take a sharp intake of breath.

 

My need to walk stopped there. I literally stopped exactly where I was and looked around for the best place to Apparate from. I knew I should have found an official Apparation point but my head was protesting against the idea. I turned and walked back through the alleyway I had just walked through and stopped halfway along.

 

I quickly looked around to make sure no one was watching and was about to turn on the spot when a figure stepped into the street at the other end.

 

‘Damn!' I muttered to myself.

 

The figure walked towards me and I leant against the wall, waiting for them to pass.

 

When the footsteps slowed, I looked up but not in time to react to whoever it was pinning me against the wall. An arm pressed against my throat and the rest of their body weight pushed against mine.

 

I tried to gasp but I couldn't, the pressure was too strong on my throat.

 

I think whoever it was realised they were stopping me breathing, as the pressure on my throat released slightly.

 

‘What...what...do you...want from...m...me?' I managed to stutter.

 

I could hear my heartbeat hammering in my ears and my head was pounding from the knock I received on the back of my head. All I wanted to do was shut my eyes, but I knew I couldn't.

 

I forced my eyes open and searched for theirs. It was then I realised they were cloaked with their hood up, covering all but their neck. Whoever it was, was magical.

 

‘He deserves more respect than you give him. He worships the ground you walk on and all you do is put him down and think the worst of him.'

 

_What the hell?_

 

‘He...deserves... _better_!'

 

‘What the hell are you talking about?' I snarled.

 

I tried to push them away from me, but my newly healed hand protested. I had no idea who it was; I couldn't even tell if it was male or female.

 

_Think Hermione!_

 

I looked at what I could see of them, namely their neck. There was no Adam's apple; it was a witch.

 

Flashes of memory from earlier on flooded my mind. _Surely this couldn't be...?_

 

‘ _Treat him with respect_! He cares for you, more than...more than you deserve.'

 

Their tone had changed.

 

‘What do you want with us?' I said as calmly as I could. ‘First Ron, now me? I suppose I should be thankful Harry's in hospital or else you'd be after him, too!'

 

She let go of me and took a step back. I fumbled in my coat for my wand but before I had chance to grab a hold of it she had turned on the spot and Disapparated.

 

I sighed and slid down the wall. Tears stung my eyes and the blood pounding in my brain made my head hurt.

 

I just sat there for a few minutes, then I heard shuffling to my left. I panicked and stood up as quickly as I could.

 

‘You alright, luv?'

 

I sighed in relief as I recognised the voice of the man from before.

 

‘Er...yeah...yeah, I'm okay.'

 

‘No ‘fence luv, but you don't look it.'

 

Despite myself I smiled.

 

‘You want a bit of this?'

 

He held up a polystyrene cup and I smelled the coffee inside it.

 

‘I made it Irish, if you know what I mean.'

 

I shook my head.

 

‘No, thanks. I have a headache already, I doubt that will help it.'

 

‘I dunno, luv. I've always found this numbs the pain.'

 

I smirked.

 

‘I've been in that much pain recently I think I'm used to it.'

 

_Where did that come from?_

 

‘Look, thanks for the offer, but I have to go.'

 

I turned and walked back through the alleyway the way I'd come. I looked over my shoulder and watched the man shuffle the other way. I turned on the spot and Disapparated.

 

I appeared at the end of Grimmauld Place and started walking towards number eleven and thirteen.

 

After I had gone through the rigmarole of getting into the house, I quietly made my way through to the kitchen so to not awake the wench that was asleep in her frame.

 

I pushed open the door and saw Remus sitting at the table eating.

 

‘Hermione!' he said after he had swallowed his mouthful. ‘How are you? Arthur gave us a brief run down of what happened this morning after Ron had told him. Are you okay?'

 

He stood and walked towards me.

 

‘I'm fine, Remus.'

 

He pulled an ‘I don't believe you' face.

 

‘Really, I'm fine. I've taken worse than a Confundus charm recently.'

 

For some reason, I didn't tell him about my latest encounter. I have no idea why; I think I just needed time to think over it before I told anyone.

 

‘Yes, well, if you need anything, don't hesitate to ask.'

 

‘Well, I could do with some more pain relief. What they gave me at the hospital seems to have worn off.'

 

Remus smiled. ‘Of course.'

 

He went to a cupboard at the back of the kitchen and took out a small bottle.

 

‘When did they give you the last lot?'

 

‘Er...I dunno, but it was the blue one, so it wasn't that strong. Not like this stuff.'

 

Remus chuckled.

 

‘Yeah, it's good.'

 

‘Remus, do you mind if I go to one of the rooms upstairs? I just fancy a bit of a rest and a bit of thinking time.'

 

‘Oh, course not. You know you're more than welcome here, and after all this is Harry's house, and I don't think he'd have a problem with it, either. Just make sure to let me know if you need anything.'

 

‘I will. Oh! Could you tell me where Ron is?'

 

‘He's still at the Ministry, I think. Arthur said he'd be there a while and then the remaining members of the Order have been asked to go to the Ministry to be told everything properly.'

 

‘Oh, okay. Thanks.'

 

I left the kitchen and made my way upstairs. I automatically went into the room I normally slept in when I stayed there. I locked the door behind me and flopped down on the bed. I curled up and stared at the wall.

 

I replayed my altercation with the witch in my head. I was convinced that the same witch had attacked Ron earlier. But then Ron's question came back to me. Was she really attacking him? It didn't look like it when she was holding him up.

 

I sighed. Really, I had no idea what she was doing.

 

And then there were her words to me.

 

‘ _He cares for you, more than you deserve._ '

 

What did that mean? Yes, we argue and bicker, but that's normal. The few days before the final battle, for once, Ron and I weren't arguing constantly and Harry had said this concerned him more than the impending confrontation with Voldemort. He'd said it just wasn't normal!

 

Even through all that we still know we care for each other. We'd been best friends for years.

 

Best friends.

 

My head gave another painful throb and my grip tightened on the bottle still in my hand. I sat up and took the potion in one go. My eyes closed as I felt the pain recede, but then I started to feel sleepy.

 

_Crap_! There's a reason why this stuff is good. It puts you to sleep during most of the pain.

 

I laid back on the bad and curled up again and let sleep overtake me.

 

\---

 

I woke up a few hours later and  checked my watch; it was half five. I sat up and was pleased to feel no pain. I squinted around in the darkened room and noticed a piece of parchment on the floor next to the door.

 

I picked it up.

 

_Hermione,_

We went to the Ministry and saw Ron. He told us what happened and we've set things in motion to monitor the situation.

 

I hate that phrase so much. It meant that the Order were concerned about what they'd heard but really there was nothing they could do about it, so were going to wait and see what transpired.

 

I carried on reading.

 

Arthur was taking Ron home to The Burrow and told me to tell you, you were welcome there, too, if you wanted to go.

_We've all left to see what we can do about what Ron told us, but we didn't want to disturb you._

_See you soon, take care._

Remus.

 

I was glad there was no one in the house. I unlocked the door and made my way down the stairs, careful to not to wake the sleeping beauty.

 

I went to the lounge and threw some Floo powder into the fireplace.

 

‘The Burrow!' I shouted, after I'd stepped into the green flames.

 

Grimmauld Place disappeared in a whirl of colour and a few seconds later, I stepped out of the fireplace at The Burrow.

 

Instantly, I knew there was something wrong.

 

I heard the familiar sound of Molly's sobbing and then I heard Ginny throwing unending questions at some poor soul.

 

‘Hermione!' Arthur exclaimed.

 

‘Dad! Why won't you answer me?'

 

Apparently, it was Arthur who was on the receiving end of Ginny's interrogation.

 

‘Arthur, what's going on? What's happened?'

 

I felt the familiar feeling of panic rising up inside me.

 

‘Oh Merlin, you don't know.'

 

‘Know what?'

 

‘Its...it's Ron.'

 

‘What? What's happened to him? Is he alright?'

 

‘He's disappeared. You haven't seen him, have you?'

 

‘NO! Not since he left the hospital. I've been at Grimmauld Place sleeping a headache off! Where was he before he disappeared?' I demanded.

 

‘We were at the pub. I was about to make a Portkey to bring us here but when I went back to get him, he wasn't there.'

 

I felt my legs go wobbly and moved to the sofa before I fell down.

 

‘How come you'll answer her questions but not mine!' Ginny screeched from behind Arthur.

 

‘Because, Ginevra, I've told you everything I know once already, but Hermione doesn't know what has happened and she needs to!'

 

Arthur was very close to shouting, something I had only seen on a few occasions, namely when he thought he was to blame for something and was having trouble coping with his conscience. I had never known his self-blame to ever be justified, but that never seemed to matter with him.

 

Ginny scowled and turned a brilliant shade of red.

 

‘I'm sorry,' she replied quietly.

 

Arthur turned back to me, but before he said anything, I cut him off.

 

‘Arthur, there's something I need to tell you.'

 

He sat down on the sofa next to me. I prayed to Merlin I wasn't going to regret the decision I made earlier.


	11. Chapter 11

Pacing isn't something a bloke can comfortably do in a five-foot by six-foot room but I was having a good go at it anyway.

My head was killing me.

I should have known that it wasn't going to be as easy as simply Diaspparating out of there, whoever this woman was, she was too clever for that, but I wasn't quite prepared for just how much slamming face first into a warded wall really did hurt.

I had another go at hammering on the door with my fists before kicking at it and continuing with my pointless pacing. I wondered what Dad would have thought when he came back and I wasn't there. Would he have assumed I'd just gone home by myself like I'd just told him I would? Did he think I'd gone out for a walk? Was he frantic, worrying that the gang from the Alley had got to me again? Was he on his way to the pub where I'd seen Wormtail?

I shuddered; Dad couldn't be so stupid to charge into a pub full of riled-up Death Eaters, could he?

I flung myself against one of the bare walls and slid down it, rubbing my aching head roughly.

"Oh shit."

I couldn't work out what this whole business was about. If it was the Death Eaters then they wouldn't mess about like this, they'd just kill me. If this was some weird witch with mental problems who'd set her sights on 'saving' me from myself, then why didn't she just make that clear? Surely, it would make the job of keeping me safe easier if she just talked to me. I paused to wonder if this was some kind of ruse to get at Harry.

Either wanting something from the saviour of the wizarding world or wanting to get onto his good side by appearing to 'rescue' me from some pre-arranged and pre-paid danger. I felt angry just thinking about all the ways I could be being used to influence Harry and hoped that whatever happened my dad didn't tell my best friend about this.

I sighed deeply and hid my face in my hands.

"Shit Harry, this is all supposed to be over now."

"No," a female voice said softly from the door, "it's supposed to be beginning."

I flinched and jumped to my feet. The robed woman flicked her wand at the door and it slammed shut and sealed magically. The spell was non-verbal and nothing I'd ever heard of before. The seams around the door filled in and it was nothing but a flat wall. I lunged at the witch to grab her wand but she sent a spell that pushed into my chest and slammed me back against the wall. It winded me slightly and, trying to catch my breath, I snarled at the woman who was trying to ruin my life.

"What do you want? Harry's still unconscious so you won't be getting anything out of him if it's blackmail or a ransom or anything."

"Harry's getting better by the day," the woman said, she sounded as if she was smiling and shook her head. "Typical of you to instinctively lie to protect him. You're incredible."

"I'm pissed off!" I bellowed and tried to push away from the wall but invisible hands as strong as Hagrid's shoved me back again.

"Ron, please don't fight with me. I don't like having to use spells on you. I've tried everything I can think of. I knew none of it would work but I tried anyway."

I glared at her and tested the power of the spell again with a grunt.

"I thought that knowing where I went wrong the first time would help but...but it's all playing out exactly the same. All I can do is keep you locked up until it's all over."

"What's over?" I yelled at her angrily. "The war _is_ over!"

"Please don't hate me, Ron, I have to do this." The woman's voice broke into a strained sob and she stamped her foot petulantly.

I stared at her foot and slumped against the wall. Gradually, my eyes glided up from the dainty feet in sensible shoes and over the pristine robes and the wand...I knew that wand, I knew who that wand belonged to.

"That's why," I gasped as I ran the day backwards to the very beginning. "It wasn't her...the kiss, the first kiss, it wasn't her."

The robed witch went rigid and the wand, the wand she had stolen from Hermione somewhere and somehow, trembled in her hand.

"No!" the witch said fearfully. "Please don't let me be the reason it all goes wrong...please don't let it all have been my fault!"

"Why Polyjuice into somebody else all day and then hide behind a hood?" I demanded as I tried in vain to push away from the wall again.

"I couldn't be _seen_!" the unmistakeable voice of Hermione Granger losing patience with me rang out loud and clear.

"Is this about Hermione? This is to get to Hermione and not Harry at all." I began to think fast, biting my lip and searching the empty space in front of me for the answer to make itself known. "You're...trying to trap Hermione?"

"Ron look at me."

My eyes widened as an epiphany struck.

"Dumbledore's inheritance, you think she got money. You think she got the key to his vault. This is ransom but not to get money from Harry--it's to get what you think Dumbledore left her."

"Ron, please look at me!" she said again, forcefully.

I snorted and lifted my head to rub her Polyjuiced nose in it.

"Well, unlucky you bitch he didn't leave her a Knu-" I spat at her before catching my breath as I saw she had dropped her hood and was crying.

"Please don't run away from me. Please just stay here until midnight. Please don't fight me, Ron."

"Stop it," I said with an uncomfortable gulp, "stop looking like Hermione."

"Ron I _am_..."Sshe hurried towards me and now I was pushing myself against the wall behind me.

"Stay the fuck away from me, you nutter!"

"You don't understand." She stepped towards me and lifted her hand to my face.

I don't know where I got the strength from, maybe it was the disgust that this creature was going to touch me, but I broke the charm and grabbed her wrists and shoved her backwards. She stumbled over the hem of her robe and tumbled backwards onto the floor. I fell heavily on top of her and tried to pry the wand out of her hand while snarling furiously down into her face, not her face, Hermione's face.

"How long has it been you? Was it since the kiss or later?" 

She was wriggling and crying and begging me to listen but all I could concentrate on was getting that wand out of her hand. Her delicate knuckles were white with the intensity of her grip on it.

"In the Alley...you swapped in the Alley. That wasn't you in the hospital at all. _That's_ why you believed it when Harry guessed I owed money to Dark wizards!"

"God please, Ron, no! You have to believe me, you have to listen! Wormtail will kill you before today is done and..."

"Him!" I snarled slamming both the witch's wrists against the floor and looming over her like a lion about to go for her throat. "I knew this was going to be down to him. So you're his assassin are you? Or you just keep me until his little battle tonight, kill me to top off a victory or use me to keep him out of Azkaban."

The brown eyes I knew so well, puffy and red with tears, stared up at me and only made me angrier.

"Did you kill her?" I said, my voice breaking a little more than I thought it was capable. "Where is she? Where's my Hermione?"

"I'm right here," the impostor said, barely audible, as she lifted her head and pressed Hermione's lips into mine.

That was the thing that made me let her go. I had to pull right back, get as far away from her as possible.

"That's just fucking cruel," I said, my chest aching. "Kill me now or fuck off, you manipulative bitch!"

The impostor scrambled back along the floor, away from me, and got to her feet. She drew the wand and held it shakily at me before flicking it at the wall and the door emerged from the smooth surface again. I ran at it as soon as she opened it but she was nearer and flitted through, slamming it behind her. 

There was nothing else for me to do but beat the living hell out of the door as it sank back into the wall and left me back in my empty box of a room with an emptier feeling inside my body.

"What did you do? What did you do to her, you evil bitch? I'm gonna fucking kill you!"


	12. Chapter 12

Pacing isn’t something a girl like me normally does.

 

A girl like me normally finds a way out of a problem by finding a book and seeing how other people have dealt with similar situations, learning from their successes and failings and then applying it all to her own.

 

But instead of doing that, I was pacing.

 

It seems I’ve picked up on one of Ron’s habits.

 

Ron. The person who’s been missing for half an hour already and the one person I _need_ to have stand in front of me right now. We didn’t survive all the rubbish we went through, for some psychotic witch who apparently has taken a fancy to Ron, to hurt him now that the war is over.

 

I was still pacing and I had no idea why.

 

I had volunteered to go to all the ‘safe’ places where it was a possibility Ron might be, granted it was the smallest possibility, but still, it was better to check them first, before we got ourselves in a panic only to find him sat in the twins’ joke shop after we’d all been haring around trying to find him. 

 

He wasn’t at the shop though; Fred and George hadn’t seen him today. We all knew he had planned to go there after he had heard Wormtail and his cronies inside the dodgy pub, but the psychotic witch had stopped him from doing that.

 

He wasn’t in Hogsmeade as Ginny had checked there, and he definitely wasn’t in Diagon Alley. Aurors from the Ministry had searched every shop and hadn’t found Ron, or any clue that would help us find him.

 

He wasn’t at Grimmauld Place, either. I knew that because that was where I started pacing, and had continued to do so for five minutes solid.

 

_Hermione, this isn’t helping at all!_

 

I was about to take a seat at the kitchen table when the door burst open and Ginny fell through it.

 

‘Is he here?’ she demanded through gasps for breath.

 

‘No, no he isn’t,’ I replied quietly.

 

‘Well, why are you still here then? You should be searching somewhere else!’

 

I was instantly annoyed. I knew Ginny was just stressed about Ron’s disappearance but that didn’t give her the right to be rude to me. She wasn’t the only one worried out of her mind.

 

‘I just needed a minute to think that’s all!’ I snapped at her. This didn’t help her mood.

 

She began to reply but then stopped. I could see her brow furrow and I knew she was thinking about something, going over something in her mind she didn’t understand.

 

‘Dad said he was upset.’

 

_And?_

 

‘What…what’s that got to do with anything?’ I stammered. I had a sneaking suspicion I knew where this was going. If I was right, then I really needed to leave now.

 

‘Well, if he hadn’t been upset, he wouldn’t have been in the pub, would he? Why was he upset?’

 

‘Why are you asking me?’ I replied, trying my best to keep calm. Getting hysterical and angry wouldn’t help Ron. ‘Your dad would know that, considering he was the one talking to him!’

 

‘He wouldn’t tell me all of what he said.’

 

‘Well, if it was a private conversation then that’s not really surprising, is it?’

 

_Oh well done Hermione!_ She’s already pissed off and now you’ve just added to it!

 

I knew she was about to shout at me, so I bit the bullet and decided to say what she’d been dying to say since she fell through the door.

 

‘Look Ginny, I know you’re thinking that if Ron and I hadn’t argued, then he wouldn’t have been upset, so he wouldn’t have been in the pub with your dad to then disappear to Merlin knows where, so at least have the decency to come out and say it to my face.’ 

 

For a second, she was stunned, but then she composed herself, rage burning in her eyes. Maybe that wasn’t the best thing to say after all.

 

‘You’re talking to me about _decency_? You’re the one who thought he’d gone to loan sharks to borrow money so he could go back to school! And you call yourself his _best friend_? You could probably be more if you’d actually admit it to yourself, and you wonder why he’s upset?’

 

‘How did you find-?’

 

‘Harry told me. I went to the hospital to tell him what had happened. He told me everything that was said after you’d woken up.’

 

‘After we’d both woken up, were shocked from at had happened to us and were angry at what had happened you mean?’

 

‘Don’t use that as an excuse! There was no reason to accuse him of that!’

 

‘If Harry told you the facts, _Ginevra..._ ’

 

_Not thought through, Hermione!_

‘...then he would have told you it was _him_ that accused Ron of that, and not _me_!’

 

‘You didn’t defend him though, did you?’

 

_I have to get out of here. Why are we wasting time arguing when we have far more important things to do?_

I sighed.

 

‘Look Ginny,’

 

_Better to be safe than sorry!_

 

‘We do not have time for this now. I know you’re upset, we all are, but I will not stand here and argue with you whilst Ron’s still out there somewhere. By all means, you stand here and rant ‘til you make the light bulbs explode and wake up the wench in the hallway, but don’t mind me if I go and do something useful!’

 

I walked towards her. I had to get through to the door. Hopefully, she wasn’t going to do anything stupid.

 

I paused slightly as I passed her.

 

‘Coming?’ I asked. I was surprised she hadn’t said something in reply to my previous little statement.

 

She still didn’t reply, but turned on her heel and preceded me out of the kitchen and through the house.

 

‘Where to?’ I asked as the house slid into oblivion behind us.

 

‘Er…back to The Burrow, that’s where everyone seems to be going back to with reports and stuff.’

 

‘The Burrow it is then.’

 

I went to Disparate but Ginny caught my arm before I had moved two inches.

 

She didn’t say anything, so I tried to catch her eye. Eventually, she looked at me.

 

‘I’m er…I’m sorry about what I said. It’s not your fault...of course it’s not. I just need someone to blame, you were the easiest target. I’m er…I’m sorry.’

 

She tried to hide the tears welling in her eyes but she couldn’t. She sniffed.

 

‘Shall we go then?’ she said quietly.

 

Instead of answering her, I pulled her towards me into a hug. It was more for me than for her, if I was honest. I needed some sort of comfort.

 

It was too much for Ginny, though. She started to cry and it was all I could do to stop my tears falling.

 

‘I’m sorry, Hermione!’ she said through her sobs. ‘You know I d…didn’t mean anything I s…said.’

 

‘Shh, I know, I know. Come on, Gin, we’ll find him, he’ll be fine. Harry and I didn’t keep a tight hold of him during a war to lose him after it’s all over did we?’

 

She chuckled quietly and pulled back from my hug.

 

‘No…no you didn’t.’

 

‘Come on, let’s get back.’

 

She nodded and we both turned on the spot and Disapparated from Grimmauld Place.

 

We arrived outside The Burrow and Ginny walked towards the front door but I hung back and looked at the place I called my second home.

 

‘Are you coming in?’ she asked when she realised I wasn’t following her.

 

‘Er…I’ll be in in a minute. I just need to er…’

 

She nodded in an understanding way.

 

‘I’ll say you won’t be long.’

 

‘Thanks.’

 

She turned towards the house and I watched her walk through the big wooden door.

 

I looked around and saw the wood at the top of the hill. I smiled as various memories came back to me. Mainly ones of Ron being chased up the hill and into the wood by the twins, which always makes me laugh, but this time as they flooded my mind, I felt the familiar burn of tears in my eyes.

 

I made a decision there and then. When we found Ron, (I know we _would_ find him) I would make my feelings clear to him. We’d wasted enough time already, there was nothing stopping us being together now, except maybe our own embarrassment.

 

The next time I saw Ron, I would…I would tell him I love him.


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

 

 

I could picture it now.

 

Harry, dragging himself along the floor of his ward at St Mungo's with his one working arm, declaring he would fight the Death Eaters in the streets of London. His 'saving-people-thing' would have kicked-in by now. 

 

What about the family? They'd be charging into that bloody pub with wands blazing. What if any of them got hurt looking for me? I wondered how much of a mess my mother had become.

 

Then, there was Hermione.

 

I closed my eyes and rested my head against the flat, smooth wall, which had once been a door, with a deep sigh. I had no idea what she was thinking any more. She could be doing anything. She could be worrying herself silly, she could be reading eight books at once; she might even be storming into that pub right behind my livid brothers.

 

Then again, she might...she just might...not care at all.

 

I shoved myself away from the wall and growled at myself to have more faith in her. There was a lot of confusing stuff going on. Most of this mess was my fault. I nodded as I had this thought.

 

"Yeah, this is my fault."

 

I'd messed it up with the kiss and the crap about money. It hadn't been Hermione who kissed me that morning.

 

Merlin, was it still the same day?

 

As far as my Hermione was concerned, I'd kissed her out of the blue and then got all tetchy about being on the receiving end of handouts. My Hermione didn't want me to kiss her. She was cross with me because I'd shat all over our friendship just for the sake of a schoolboy crush. 

 

"No wonder she was pissed off with me." I mumbled to myself.

 

But, pissed-off or not, she had still risked her life for me. She came running when Wormtail’s witch had tried to take me the first time. She got hurt keeping me safe and the last thing I’d done was upset her. She was a better friend to me than I was to her. 

 

She deserved better.

 

Then, I had a thought that made my stomach drop. What if everybody was occupied trying to find my worthless hide and nobody was prepared to stop Wormtail and his mates? They were going to strike Diagon Alley and everything the twins had was in their shop. They lived in the flat above it. It was the school holidays; there would be children with their parents on the street. Bill and Fleur were working in Gringotts.

 

I had no idea how to break through wards without a wand. I didn't think it was possible, even if I had one. But I had to try something.

 

I turned on the spot and tried to Disapparate again.

 

_Wump!_

 

My head spun and my ears rang. I staggered slightly and tried to shake off the dizziness. It was like being of the deck of a boat, caught in rough seas. I stumbled a little before righting myself and trying to ride out the temporary loss of balance that had seized me. Leaning against the wall, I took a couple of deep breaths in and out. I pushed my body upright again and shook my head to clear it. I couldn’t give up. Maybe I’d weakened the wards.

 

I braced myself and went for it again.

 

_Wump!_

 

I hit the floor flat on my back and groaned. It felt as if somebody was spinning an egg whisk inside my brain. I rolled over onto my front and clutched my throbbing head in both hands. Sounds, breathing, thinking…they all hurt. 

 

I heard the door emerging from out of the wall and creaking open.

 

"What's going on?" Hermione's voice called out fearfully.

 

I tried to blink the spots out of my eyes, wanting to get to my feet and charge at her and get the hell out of there. I crawled a couple of feet as fast as I could before launching myself forward for, what I thought was, the door.

 

The room was already spinning as I ran for it. The sudden blow to my body as the smooth white wall met me with a sickening boom floored me again. I heard a scream that drove into me like an axe to the head.

 

The sound and the pain echoed away from me. There was darkness and painlessness and quiet. I felt as if I was falling in a deep chasm with no bottom to it. There was a rushing wind, cool and smooth around me. I was being swallowed up and taken away from the hard floor, the bright room, and the aching in my head.

 

The breeze that rushed by my ears was slowing now and the blackness surrounding me lightened. I felt warmth. I felt the cold, hard, floor beneath me. I slumped limply as the sensation of falling fizzled into nothing. Just as I realised that something soft, but firm, had caught me as I slouched, the splitting pain in my head began to return. First, a tiny crack grew larger and became jagged. The pain penetrated deeper and deeper. The cracks were pulled wide and it felt as if my whole head was being pulled apart every which way.

 

It was like having another heartbeat inside my skull. My head had never hurt this much before in all my life, not even when the White Queen had given me a crack with her stone arm. I made a humiliatingly weak noise at the back of my throat and reached feebly for my sore head.

 

"Shhh, don't move," a soft female voice whispered to me.

 

I felt a delicate touch glide across the side of my face and my hair moving away from my forehead with a gentle stroke. I sighed and tried to roll over into the soft warmth that cradled my upper body. As soon as I turned my head, pain like bolts of lightning shot through my body from my head all the way down my spine and exploded out of my toes. I hissed and forced my eyes together ever tighter.

 

"Oh, shit!" I hissed through gritted teeth.

 

"Lie still," Hermione said from close by. "Oh Ron, what did you do to yourself? Why can't you just trust me and stay hidden?"

 

I winced and tried to pry my eyelids apart. The brightness of the room was dazzling and the face above me was a hazy smudge of brown with a lighter blur the colour of milky tea in the centre. The shapes emerged out of the collage of browns and creams and soon there was a mass, like a cloud, that surrounded a face. There were big, brown eyes blinking and then a smile, just a little smile, and the touch of a hand upon my cheek.

 

"Let me heal your head, Ron," she said, low enough not to cause my aching head any more pain.

 

"My-nee?" I blinked.

 

"Hold still. I couldn't fix you up properly when you were unconscious--it wouldn't have been safe."

 

I was about to say something when a flash of light hit me in the face and I heard a humming that seemed to melt some of the awful pounding away. I slumped in Hermione's arms and closed my eyes with a sigh of relief.

 

"'S better," I muttered.

 

Then, I felt long hair all around me and soft warm lips pushing against mine as a tongue parted them and tentatively explored inside my mouth. I opened my eyes and saw Hermione closer than I had ever seen her before. She was leaning over me and holding the back of my head as she kissed me deeper and harder. I let my mouth open wider and pulled her tongue inside eagerly.

 

"Mmm," Hermione moaned into my mouth before breaking away and smiling blissfully. "I'm so glad you finally believe it's me. I love you. Oh, Ron, you scared me so much I didn't think I'd be able to sto--"

 

"Believe you?" I frowned before I suddenly felt the rush of my memory returning along with a surge of adrenaline and I felt cold and sick all over.

 

I flipped over and held her down beneath me. My fingers tried to pry the wand out of her hand and she squirmed under me and began to weave her web of lies again. 

 

"Ron, no, look at me, please look at me!" she pleaded with me frantically.

 

If she was this scared that she hadn't managed to pull the wool over my eyes, then I wasn't too late. I still had time to get back and stop Wormtail. I could go back to my Hermione and tell her...tell her I was sorry and I'd never jeopardise our friendship again.

 

"You made me fuck things up with my best friend, you evil bitch!" I growled down into her face as I managed to claw the wand from her hand.

 

"Ron, please, don't!" she screamed as I flicked the wand into her face.

 

" _Silencio!"_

 

I climbed off her and flicked the wand at her again.

 

_"Stupefy!"_

 

I ran for the open door and thought about attempting a Disapparition again. Remembering the pain in my head, I decided to play it safe and created a Portkey to the twins' flat. 

 

As the teacup glowed and then returned to normal, I snatched it up and felt myself pulled out of the room and fell dizzily onto the faux Pygmy puff rug that lay before the fireplace at Wheezes. 

 

I was a little out of breath and my blood was pumping so fast I could feel my pulse in my ears. I turned to look at the fireplace and thought about Floo calling The Burrow to let them know I was fine and to come to the shop and prepare a defensive attack. That was when I heard a loud booming followed by screams.

 

The glass in the shop windows downstairs shattered and I saw a broomstick fly past the window before being struck by a curse and crashing into the roof of a building across the street.

 

It was too late. Wormtail was already attacking.

 

I clutched Hermione's wand and ran for the stairs. I'd stop that traitor myself if it was the last thing I did.


	14. Chapter 14

There was so much noise around me, people shouting, people arguing, people talking with other people via the fireplace. And then there was me.

 

I wasn’t talking to anyone. I was sat on the stairs ignoring everything that was going on downstairs. I don’t know why I wasn’t trying to help; it was probably because deep down I knew there was nothing I could do to help.

 

Apparently, I wasn’t allowed to go out and help find Ron anyway. Neither were any other of the Weasleys, although I didn’t know how long that was going to last. Fred and George were starting to look murderous and I had a feeling Arthur was about to leave, regardless of his instructions from his superiors. The general thought was, if Ron had been taken, then the rest of his family and anyone else close to him could also be in danger. I argued my point that if that were true, then surely both Ron and I would have been attacked in Diagon Alley, (and considering I only was because I tried to stop the psychotic wench taking him, that didn’t really count), but my words fell on deaf ears. I was to stay at the Burrow and wait until they found Ron.

 

Ron.

 

As the time Ron was missing increased, so did my determination to tell him how I felt. I wasn’t sure of how I would say it exactly, but I would. I had to. The war might be over but it was still a dangerous time. If I’m honest, we’d not been careful enough the past few days, we should have looked out for each other and ourselves more.

 

‘ _Someone needs to watch Potter in St. Mungo’s!’_

 

Oh, he’s going to _love_ that. It’s probably killing him knowing Ron’s missing whilst there’s absolutely nothing he can do to help. Even he should be able to realise that a wizard with only one working hand is not going to help matters in any way. In fact, it’s probably best that someone’s there to watch him, He’d probably try and perform _Imperio_ on himself to see if he could get his body working that way. Well, maybe that was a bit extreme.

 

Harry Potter, extreme? Yeah, that fits a little too well.

 

A shadow appeared at the bottom of the stairs and I knew whoever it was, was looking up trying to figure out who was trying to hide away.

 

‘Hermione?’

 

My hiding had come to and end. Arthur had found me.

 

‘I’m here,’ I said quietly.

 

He walked up the stairs and looked down at me.

 

‘May I?’ he asked, gesturing to the space on the step next to me.

 

‘Of course,’ I replied, shuffling a bit closer to the banister so there was room for both of us.

 

‘I think you’ve got the right idea, sitting up here away from all that.’ 

He waved his hand towards the bottom the stairs.

 

‘Not very courageous though, is it? I’m here because I couldn’t listen to the constant reports of negative sighting, or whatever they say when they don’t find someone. I just wanted to get away.’

 

‘I know how you feel. Plus, there’s the fact that if anyone else tells me to calm down and not worry, I might inflict pain on them.’

 

I chuckled.

 

‘I’m surprised Fred and George haven’t let the entire contents of their shop loose on the lot of them,’ I said with a smile.

 

‘Ha! That would be something to see. I don’t think it’s come to that though.’

 

‘WHY WON’T YOU LET US HELP?’ one of the twins shouted suddenly.

 

The small smiles on both Arthur’s face and mine slipped.

 

‘You were saying?’ I asked.

 

‘Oh, Merlin! Maybe I should go down there.’

 

‘Will it help?’

 

He sighed. 

‘Probably not. I’m probably safer up here too.’

 

I thought about what Ginny had said earlier, about Ron being upset and talking to Arthur. Before I had though about it properly, I felt my mouth open and heard the start of a sentence come out of it.

 

‘Why was he-?’

 

I stopped, thankfully my brain kicked in before my mouth said something I regretted.

 

‘Why was he what?’ Arthur asked quietly. He wasn’t harsh with his question; just reassuring that he didn’t mind what it was. Although I had a suspicion that he knew what I was going to ask.

 

‘Er…Ginny said he was upset when you spoke to him. I was just wondering…why? But it was between you and Ron, it doesn’t matter. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked.’

 

Arthur smiled. 

‘You care about him don’t you?’ he asked.

 

‘Of course I do, he’s my best friend.’

 

‘Hermione, I think you care about him more than that.’

 

‘Does everyone know this apart from me and Ron?’ I asked with a smirk.

 

‘Apparently!’

 

‘Just so you know, he cares for you, too. A lot. He just needs you to tell him so, he’s confused about a few things. I’d tell you but-’

 

‘No, I don’t want you to, what you talked about was between him and you. You shouldn’t tell me. If Ron wants to tell me then…then he will.’

 

‘I told him he needed to talk to you, and Harry, too. He-’

 

‘DIAGON ALLEY’S UNDER ATTACK!’

 

Arthur and I stood up and stared at each other. At the same time we both set off down the stairs and stopped and stared at the various raised voices trying to sort out some sort of defence and a plan of action.

 

Someone shouted the order ‘GO! NOW!’ and I felt myself turning on the spot, but I felt a hand grab my arm.

 

‘You’re not allowed to go, Hermione. It’ll be dangero-’

 

I have a feeling my glare told him all I intended it to. I didn’t mean it at him; it was at the fact that people thought I was going to sit here and not help when people I cared for were in danger, that made the expression appear on my face.

 

‘Are you going to stay here?’ I asked him quietly.

 

He shook his head.

 

‘No, I can’t stay here now.’

 

‘Neither can I.’

 

‘ALL THOSE WHO HAVE BEEN TOLD TO MEET IN THE WEASLEY SHOP, GO NOW!’

 

‘If I don’t try and stop you, will you promise to be careful?’ Arthur asked me quietly.

 

A few people had turned to look at us; obviously making sure we weren’t about to do ‘something stupid’.

 

‘Only if you will,’ I replied.

 

He smiled and let go of my arm. He took a step back from me and breathed deeply. We both turned quickly on the spot and Disapparated, but not before I heard a few strangled ‘NO!’s in the room I was leaving.

 

The orange light of flames burned through my eyelids before I’d managed to open them.

 

‘You two aren’t supposed to be here!’ an Auror shouted at us.

 

Arthur replied by pushing past him and following the other people who had Apparated to the shop out the door. I followed in his footsteps.

 

I thought I had seen the end of the terror and the fighting, but what my eyes saw told me otherwise. Cloaked figures were stood over huddled forms on the ground, some moving, others perfectly still.

 

I gave myself a few seconds to look at the scene before me and then my brain went into overdrive. I was about to take a step forward when I heard a sharp intake of breath behind me. I spun round, wand raised and squinted into the dark. I lit my wand and the beam of light fell upon a familiar pair of trainers. I gasped and flicked the light up into the person’s face, which made him raise his hand to stop it blinding him.

 

No, it couldn’t be.

 

‘Ron?’ I managed to squeak out.

 

Before he had chance to say anything I started running towards him, and when I reached him I threw my arms around him. I held him to me and tears started to fall down my cheeks and onto his shoulder.

 

‘Oh, thank Merlin you’re okay. We were all so worried, we thought…we thought…Oh!’

 

My mind couldn’t form another sentence so I did the next best thing I could to tell him how relieved I was; I pulled him closer to me.

 

He muttered something under his breath and I turned my head so I could hear him better, but didn’t let go of him.

 

‘Pardon?’ I whispered.

 

‘It’s not you,’ he replied in what seemed like a calm tone.

 

I didn’t understand what he’d said. _What_ wasn’t me?

 

‘What?’ I asked, finally taking my head off his shoulder and moving back from him slightly, but I kept a tight hold of his arms.

 

He looked me directly in the eye and I knew then that something was wrong. As much as he hates it, you can always tell how Ron’s feeling by his eyes. He wears his heart on his sleeve, or more literally in the look of his eyes.

 

‘It’s…not…you,’ he said again. This time, I noticed he’d said his words through gritted teeth. Something was definitely wrong.

 

‘Ron what’s-’

 

A large explosion made me jump and I instinctively shoved Ron backwards towards the twins’ shop. But after a few steps, he resisted and pulled my hands off his arms.

 

‘Get away from me!’ he hissed. ‘I know you’re not my Hermione, she doesn’t want--. You can either turn yourself in quietly or we can duel right here, right now.’

 

He took a step back and drew his wand.

 

Hang on, that wasn’t Ron’s wand, but then…why does it look familiar?

 

‘Ron, what the hell’s going on? What do you mean I’m not your Hermione! Of course I am, well, I suppose that depends on the definition of ‘your’ but--’

 

Yes Hermione, because this is the time for _that!_

 

He took a deep breath.

 

‘Look, either put your wand--’

 

He stopped as he looked at the wand in my hand but then shook his head as if clearing his ears of water and got back on track.

 

‘Either put your wand on the ground and surrender, or duel with me!’

 

‘Ron I’m not going to duel--’

 

‘ _Stupefy_!’

 

Without thinking, I conjured a shield around me and the curse bounced off it. My fighting instincts took over and I sent my normal spell of attack at him – an energy force designed to knock your attacker off balance. It gave you a few seconds to do whatever you needed to, but didn’t harm your attacker.

 

I watched Ron as he stumbled backwards a few steps and then gained his composure.

 

‘Ron, tell me what the hell’s going on? Why are you acting like…this?’

 

‘Well, you’re good, I’ll give you that!’ he said with a smirk. ‘You’ve definitely done your research, that’s _exactly_ what my Hermione would have done! Given herself enough time to think of a solution to the problem without actually harming me! She’s like that you know, caring, considerate, a really _good_ person, but you wouldn’t know anything about being _good_ , _would you?_ ’

 

My head was spinning. I didn’t understand any of this. Why didn’t Ron believe I was ‘his Hermione’?

 

What he did next took me by surprise. He strode towards me and I half-lifted my wand arm but then let it fall next to me, two voices in my head having a silent war with each other.

 

‘I know, I’ll give you something you seem to enjoy!’

 

He stepped up to me and brought his lips down to meet mine. I couldn’t think for a few seconds, all I could feel was the way Ron’s lips felt against mine. I didn’t even notice him grab both my wrists in his hands.

 

I did a second later though; when he spun me round so fast I almost fell down on the floor.

 

‘ _Incarcerate!_ ’ he hissed into my ear.

 

I felt thick cords wrap themselves around my wrists and I instantly struggled against them.

 

‘No! Ron! Stop it! Why are you doing this?’ I screeched. ‘It _is_ me! You have to believe me, ask me anything! ANYTHING!’

 

I was screaming now, I had run out of any other options.

 

He picked me up off the floor and carried me over to the front of the twins’ shop and set me on the floor. He flicked his wand at me and more ropes wound there way around me, eventually stopping me being able to struggle at all.

 

‘Ron PLEASE!’ I begged. I was sobbing now, I just didn’t know why any of this was happening.

 

He looked down at me with nothing but hatred in his eyes.

 

‘You…you slept with your…your fingers crossed for six months solid whilst we were searching for the Horcruxes!’ I screeched, trying to make him believe me. ‘You made Harry promise that he would ask Ginny to marry him if he came out of the final battle alive. You asked ME if I thought they were meant to be together! Ron, how else can I know those things if I wasn’t your… _your_ Hermione?’

 

I saw a shadow of doubt in his face, but it was gone in the next instant.

 

‘You are going to sit here and watch the rest of your Death Eater friends either be killed, tortured or given the Dementors’ Kiss. I’ll send someone to get you after I’ve found that snivelling little traitor Wormtail. _Enjoy the show_!’

 

He turned away from me and ran.

 

‘RON!’ I screamed after him. ‘NO! RON!’

 

My screams went unanswered.

 

All I could do was watch the show.


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

 

Running into a fight wasn’t new to me. In fact, it wasn’t even before I met Harry. We’re scrappers, Weasleys are, and we are always the kind to punch first and ask later.

 I had felt a little sick as I kissed that fake Hermione. That would be my only experience of ever doing so, other than that morning’s dreadful failure of a kiss that is, and I hated that my image of Hermione was now always going to remind me of that Polyjuiced bitch kissing me and telling me she loved me.

 We went through a whole war without telling each other we loved each other. What would be so different now? I’d been so eager to believe it that I didn’t think about how out-of-character it was.

 Of course, it was an impostor.

 The only people who thought we were meant to be together were people who didn’t know us well enough. Hermione was destined for the Krums of this world, not the second fiddles.

 Nobody goes to their Quidditch team’s reserve match; they support the real thing.

 " _Diffindo!_ " a gruff yell came from my left and I ducked and sent out a shield charm.

 The spell was absorbed and I rolled behind an upturned toffee apple stall and sent out some stunning spells before binding the wizard’s hands and feet. I scrambled back up and ran, keeping low as I did, to the pub where I’d overheard their plan earlier that day.

 I could hear it, the whooshing of the fireplace and cracks of Apparition. Death Eaters were arriving via the pub and emerging to give reinforcements to their scummy cohorts. Soon, the Aurors would be overwhelmed. They thought this was it and any moment now a second wave of fresh fighters would charge from the pub and strike them from behind.

 I leaned against the wall of the pub, practically back in the Alley where this whole mess had started, and closed my eyes to search my mind for some way to stop it. There were too many for just me. If only my brothers were here--Bill, Charlie and the twins--we’d give them what for.

 My eyes snapped open and I remembered something Bill and Charlie used to do to make me and the twins laugh when we were babies. I summoned a toffee apple over the road and into my hand. Twirling my wand around the apple, I muttered what my memory told me had been the spell they had used.

 " _Thermeo intus, thermeo intus, thermeo intus!_ " The apple glowed orange and then appeared normal again.

 I bit my lip before flicking my wand at the wooden stick, transfiguring it into a piece of thin string. I summoned several more toffee apples and repeated the process until I had a whole set of sticky, red apples with string trailing out of them.

 I swallowed. Either this was going to go spectacularly right or humiliatingly wrong. I would be Ron Weasley, the boy who thought he could kill Death Eaters by throwing toffee apples at them!

I took a deep breath and gathered the ends of the strings in my hand before lighting them with my wand tip. As the strings burned quickly, I levitated the apples and banished them into the pub, smashing through the glass window in the process.

 I clamped my hands over my ears and scrunched my eyes tightly shut before crouching and bracing myself. 

 One…two…three seconds passed before BOOM!

 The pub exploded into flames and there were agonised screams from within that made me feel sick. I could smell burning flesh and tried not to gag. This was justified, I told myself; these people were murderers and would have come out of that pub and slaughtered all those Aurors. Tonks and Shacklebolt, they would have got the Killing Curse in the back without a moment's hesitation from their murderers. I exhaled deeply and pushed myself back to my feet. 

 My ears were ringing. The screaming had stopped; somebody had run from the pub in flames and dropped to the floor to be put out by a startled Auror, who was covered in the falling debris from the pub, before being arrested and carted away.

 I pressed myself flat against the wall and tried to catch my breath.

 The Aurors were out in force but the Death Eaters had used the explosion as a distraction and had cast several Confundus Charms that made everybody appear to be wearing Auror robes. Nobody knew who to aim for and who to trust.

 "Shit!" I hissed and banged my head on the wall behind me.

 Why the hell had I been taken? Was it all a way of diverting attention away from the attack, where it should have been? I panted heavily and plunged my hands into the pockets of the robe I'd taken from Fred and George's place. Surely the twins would have something hidden for times like these.

 I pulled out a rubber chicken, obviously one of their trick wands, some experimental looking sweets that I wasn't going to put near my mouth for anything in the world, and a small phial of liquid.

I squinted at it. It looked very familiar. Where had I seen it before?

 "Snape's st-" I suddenly gasped as a loud groaning made me shudder and I looked up to see the chimney above me crumbling away and falling.

 I ran as if there were spiders on my back and dove, head first, into a night bus shelter. I grazed both my palms and knees as somebody screamed from far away. There was a zipping sound and a figure in Auror robes flew backwards and into the window of Quality Quidditch Supplies where they lay, unmoving. 

 I gripped Hermione's wand in my hand and bit my lip as I squinted across Diagon Alley, the battlefield it had become, and tried to work out how to know who to attack and who to avoid. I saw Hermione running through the streets with my wand in her hand. She was hexing everybody who crossed her path and her eyes were wide and wild.

 I swallowed and ducked down so she couldn't see me.

 "Hold on," I said, frowning to myself in confusion. "If she's got my wand, then where's the one she had on me a minute ago?"

 "I'm going to kill you!" Hermione, no _not_ Hermione screamed fiercely. "You'll be dead before you get the chance to ruin things again, you traitor!"

 So she was showing her true colours at last. At least this would make it easier to finish her off. It wouldn't be like cursing my Hermione. This one was full of hate and fury and spite. This witch was nothing like my girl, my friend.

I resolved to take her down.

I gritted my teeth and extended Hermione's stolen wand, expecting to see the Dark witch wearing the Hermione costume before me. What I saw was a silver hand emerging from Auror robes, aiming a wand at a livid looking Hermione. She was threatening him. She was threatening Wormtail.

" _Avada K-"_ He was too fast for her.

 But I was closer.

 I grabbed his metal wand arm and pointed it upwards to the sky. The spell was sent away from the battle and Wormtail looked into my eyes and glared at me.

 "Little Ronald, always standing in the way of greatness, aren't you boy?"

 I pointed the wand tip into his face and the superior strength in his silver arm turned it into mine just as it flashed brightly. There was another scream and Wormtail let me go and laughed as I hit the ground hard. 

 I laughed, too. Amused at the look of realisation on his face as I lay on my back being threatened with a rubber chicken. I drew my real wand, Hermione's wand, and sent a hex flying.

 " _Sectusempra_!"

 Slashes cut Wormtail across his chest and he fell to his knees in front of me.

 "Worthless brat!" he hissed, grabbing me by the throat and ripping Hermione's wand from my fingers.

 He tossed the wand aside and held his own to my temple.

  _"Cruci-_ " Wormtail began but was interrupted by a brilliant, red, lightning bolt hitting him in the chest.

The treacherous wizard screamed out in pain and the Hermione that held my wand in her hand ran towards both of us. 

 I saw flashes, so many flashes. There were flashes of that long day that was nearing its end. Flashes from spells and shields and hexes lit up the street like fireworks. Flashes of things in my mind trying to show me something.

It was like when I played chess. I would look at the board when my back was against the wall and then flash...flash...flash... I would see my next move, and my opponents and mine on and on until the game was lost. Then back to the boards and the flashes of a different set of moves, and another and another until the flashes eventually led to a winning pattern and I would make that one move...my first move towards victory and my opponent never knew it was coming.

I saw those flashes, my chessboard flashes, only with the street as the boards and the Aurors and Death Eaters as the pieces. Hermione was my Queen, Wormtail was the opposing King, and once again...one last time.

"I'm the knight." I whispered.

Wormtail grabbed me while I was still unarmed and held me before him to use as a shield from any attack Hermione might send his way. She looked furious and terrified.

More flashes.

Hermione held her wand in her hand while I held the same wand in my own. Hermione with mine, battling in the street when I knew I'd secured hers at the twins' place. Hermione kissing me in the morning, then rejecting me when I kissed her back, then the time-turner, then the witch in St Mungo's that tried to lock me up for a day, money stuff and Wormtail and a woman in a side alley who didn't want me hurt but who wanted me off the street...

 "She couldn't be seen," I said as it all added up at long last.

 I hadn't been watching the game. I'd been thinking about other things. I'd been thinking about kisses and Galleons and jobs on the Knight Bus and charity from Harry and I took my eyes off the bloody board when I should have been paying attention.

 "Would she kill her prince to stop me?" Wormtail gurgled thickly in my ear. "Or would she let me go yet again to spare you?"

 I gritted my teeth and plunged my hand into my pocket, grabbing a handful of Fred and George's trial merchandise, jamming it down Wormtail's throat.

_"Stupefy!"_ Hermione called out as she ran towards us, eyes wide with terror.

 We both fell to the cobbled pavement hard and the spell whizzed over our heads. Wormtail tried to cut me with several spells but the closest he was able to get was to graze my shoulder. I shoved my handful down the detestable traitor's throat and clamped his mouth closed at the same moment I heard Kingsley Shacklebolt and Tonks yelling out over the crowd.

 "Hold your fire! We can't hit the Weasley boy!"

 So this was it.

 In order to take down the king, the knight had to be sacrificed. The loss of the knight would guarantee victory. The other players would ensure that. One loss would clear the way to take out the king for good and they would have the rage in them to do it.

 Just as Wormtail grew fins where his legs should have been and his eyes grew out of their sockets on stalks the coward's silver hand raised his wand at me and uttered a spell through his mouthful of jinxed sweets.

 Hermione was screaming. Everything was spinning. I was bleeding, something pierced my side, and then everything became heavy and black.

 


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

 

 

 

It was me.   
  
It had been me all day long. The psychotic wench…was _me_!   
  
Oh, Merlin, Hermione, how could you have not seen it? Only when you’re staring yourself in the face do you figure this one out!   
  
But…why?   
  
Obviously, I used the last remaining Time Turner…but…why? What could possibly happen that makes me use the last-   
  
‘Oh, sweet Merlin, no!’ I whispered.   
  
As the thought crossed my mind, I struggled against my bonds, but it really was no use. Ron was far too good to slip up on a spell like this.   
  
I was resigned to the fact that I was merely a spectator in all of this; I felt sick because I couldn’t do anything. I watched the scene unfold before me as if it was playing in slow motion.   
  
I saw myself scream the Stunning Spell at Ron and Wormtail, which missed them both as they tumbled to the floor.   
  
‘Hold your fire! We can’t hit the Weasley boy!’   
  
I held my breath as several Aurors had their wands pointed at Ron and Wormtail.   
  
Wormtail was starting to transform into…something. I’d seen Ron shove something into his face but I had no idea what it was. Although, by the looks of what was happening to Wormtail, it might have been something from the twins’ shop.   
  
One thing wasn’t transforming though, his silver hand. It rose from the mass on the floor and held his wand for all to see. The tip flared brightly as I squinted my eyes against the light and turned my head, afraid of what I was going to see, but that didn’t stop me from hearing the strangled yells and screams.   
  
I forced myself to turn my head back towards where Ron and Wormtail were lying and then I slowly opened my eyes. The Aurors were slowly closing in around the mass on the floor.   
  
‘NO!’ Tonks yelled as she stepped one pace closer.   
  
My stomach turned and I put my hand to my mouth to stop myself being physically sick.   
  
Wait, my hand was on my mouth, I was no longer restrained, but then--  
  
‘No!’ I whispered as I scrambled to my feet. I tried to run forwards but I stumbled a little before regaining my balance.   
  
‘He can’t be! I didn’t get to tell him!’ I shouted to anyone who was listening. I was getting closer to the circle of people surrounding Ron and I pushed through it.   
  
I looked down at him; he was lying on his side with his eyes closed, like he was sleeping.   
  
I fell to my knees and leant over him. Everyone around me was quiet as if waiting for my verdict, not that I really noticed. I only had eyes for Ron.   
  
‘R…Ron?’ I whispered, stroking his fringe out of his eyes.   
  
I sat back a little and looked at the rest of him, searching for any sign of him moving in any way. I glared at his chest, willing it to start moving.   
  
But it didn’t.   
  
‘No!’ I gasped. ‘Please…not Ron…not Ron!’   
  
‘Somebody check for a pulse!’ a voice behind me yelled.   
  
I heard shuffling and then a hand moved into my field of vision. I saw two fingers press into his neck and I held my breath.   
  
‘Well?’ someone asked frantically.   
  
I looked up at the person in front of me; I vaguely recognised him. He had been at The Burrow before we left to come here.   
  
He looked into my eyes for a second and then lowered his head. It was if I was seeing him shake it from left to right from outside my body. I saw it from all angles and fell a little deeper into despair as I realised there was nothing else he could mean, other than  Ron was dead.   
  
He didn’t have a pulse; Wormtail had killed Ron.   
  
My Ron was no longer…mine.   
  
A dry sob escaped my mouth and I clamped a hand to my face. The little strength I had in my upper body left me and I slumped forward onto his body.   
  
I sobbed and tears fell from my eyes.   
  
My whole body shook as I tightened my grip on his robes.   
  
‘We have to move him,’ another Auror said above me.   
  
Someone took hold of the top of my arm firmly and started to pull me back. Before I realised what was happening, they had gripped my other arm and effortlessly picked me up off Ron.   
  
When I realised they were trying to take Ron away from me, I started to struggle.   
  
‘No…I won’t…I can’t leave him.’   
  
‘WHERE IS HE?’   
  
I instantly stopped struggling as Arthur’s yells reached my ears.   
  
I felt sick again. I didn’t want to see Arthur realise his youngest son was dead. I didn’t want to see the grief overtake him. But I couldn’t take my eyes off him as he ran closer towards me.   
  
At the last second, Kingsley turned and stood in front of him, stopping him from getting to Ron.   
  
‘Arthur…he…’   
  
‘No! He’s fine! He’s just unconscious!’   
  
He pushed himself past Kingsley and fell to his knees, looking into my eyes. It was a piercing look, and I think my eyes and my tearstained face told him what he didn’t want to know.   
  
When he hit the floor he waved his wand over Ron various times, muttering spells and trying to revive his son.   
  
‘Arthur, it’s no use…’ Kingsley said, walking forward and putting a hand on his shoulder.   
  
Arthur shrugged Kingsley’s hand off with a shrug and kept on performing the spells.   
  
‘Arthur, stop! He’s gone. There’s nothing you can do.’   
  
Kingsley had stepped forward and had taken hold of Arthur’s wand hand to physically stop him from continuing. It was then that Arthur broke down. I joined him in his sobs.   
  
The person who was restraining me, was now holding me up, my legs had gone from underneath me and my head was spinning.   
  
This wasn’t happening--it couldn’t happen. We’d fought our war and we’d won. This was our time to start living. We’d done the hard work, now was our time to have a life.   
  
But what I was seeing unfold before my eyes was…wrong. It wasn’t supposed to be like this.  
  
It was supposed to be different.   
  
\---   
  
I sat in the depths of the Ministry and had been in the same position for half an hour. It was standard procedure when someone had been killed in suspicious circumstances. The body would stay here until the cause of death had been determined and an investigation had been performed into why it had occured.   
  
The verdict was death by Avada Kedavra. His various cuts weren’t severe enough to have caused him to bleed to death and there were plenty of witnesses that said Wormtail performed a curse, before a Stunner hit him.   
  
Why?   
  
The Body.   
  
Ron’s body.   
  
The body of the one I love.   
  
All of the Weasley family had, at some point, been in this room and seen Ron.   
  
He had been cleaned up and placed in this room. It was very calming; I think they’d charmed it to have that effect, although it hadn’t worked on Molly. She had come out sobbing so hard I couldn’t believe what I saw. I don’t think I’d ever seen anyone cry like that before, and I’d seen a lot of people cry.   
  
I had asked to be last to sit with him. Everyone had gone home and it was finally peaceful, apart from my occasional sniffs. I hadn’t stopped crying, but now the tears were just sliding down my face.   
  
‘I’m sorry, Ron,’ I heard myself saying. ‘I didn’t save you even though…it’s obvious I was trying to. Why else would I have gone back in time?’   
  
I’d been thinking of nothing else since I stepped in this room.   
  
I had to change the way things had turned out. I had to save Ron. I had to tell him how I felt and I had to make sure he was a part of my life from now on.   
  
\---   
  
I’d sat in the Ministry for hours. I didn’t realise the time slipping away and no one had disturbed me. I finally left at three in the morning. The guard in the Atrium was asleep when I walked past him and he didn’t stir when I threw Floo powder into one of the many fireplaces and said ‘Number twelve Grimmauld Place’ quietly into the flames.   
  
I opened my eyes when I felt myself tip forward and into the kitchen of the dark house. I sighed, relieved, when I saw there was no one in the room, but heard movement in the floors above. I hurried up the stairs to the room I had gone to that afternoon to sleep and locked the door behind me.   
  
I pulled out a small box from under the bed and opened it. I had put the Time Turner in there earlier, after I had woken up. There was nowhere safer I could put it. I had planned to find somewhere for it long term, but that was no longer necessary.   
  
I pulled out the chain I wore around my neck and unclasped it before sliding the small magical object onto it.   
  
I put the chain back under my robes and looked around the room, looking for things that might help me change Ron’s fate.   
  
There was a box of books at the foot of the bed. We’d used them during our Horcrux hunt and it was all I could do not to cry at the memories of Ron as they flooded my mind.   
  
‘No, Hermione!’ I growled at myself. ‘This is not the time! You have to think!’   
  
I spent the next three hours searching the books for any piece of information that might help me, but I realised it was my own mind that would be the source of all the information I’d need.   
  
Wormtail was planning an attack. I had to stop him.   
  
It was coming up to twenty-two hours that I’d been awake, but I felt no trace of tiredness. The adrenaline pumping through me made me feel as awake as I’d ever felt.   
  
At half-past six precisely, I pulled the chain out from under my robes and stared at the Time Turner. It had been years since I’d seen one up close and once again, I had to fight back the memories of Ron flooding my mind. Now was not the time to become distracted.   
  
I held my breath and remembered the words said to me at Gringotts that morning.   
  
_‘Send it spinning.’_  
  
‘Send it spinning?’ I replied. ‘Don’t you need to be more specific than that?’   
  
‘No. It’s been made to work in one way, and one way only. All you need to do is activate it. Set it away spinning – quickly – and it’ll do the rest itself. But remember, Miss Granger, you must not be seen!’   
  
I must not be seen.   
  
I don’t intend to be. Wormtail won’t know what’s hit him.   
  
I took a deep breath and put my finger against the tiny hourglass.   
  
‘Three – two – one.’   
  
I pushed the hourglass with some force and felt the effects immediately.   
  
Everything around me starting spinning. I closed my eyes and saw Ron stand in front of me grinning. The vision in my mind’s eye faded into him lying on the floor dead.   
  
I opened my eyes and stared at my surroundings.   
  
‘I’ll save you, Ron. If it’s the last thing I do, I’ll save you.’ 

 


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter 17

 

Mum was shouting for me to come down for breakfast.

 Why can’t breakfast be in the afternoon?

 She’d be up soon if I didn’t start moving about. She had a routine of charging into my room without knocking, stomping her feet as loudly as she could, drawing the curtains wide open and pulling all the covers off me while threatening me with all sorts of hexes if I didn’t ‘ _Get a wriggle on’_.

 With a groan, I rolled myself out of my cocoon of warmth and softness to set my bare feet down upon the scratchy rug beside my bed and set off to the bathroom to set about my new morning routine.

 Into the bathroom, lock the door and cast a silencing charm, fart loudly. I opened a window and chuckled to myself. I’ll never stop finding farts funny. Then I stood before the toilet and peed while yawning deeply. Then I swore and lifted the toilet seat mid-flow. This only cause even more mess so I finished off and then cast a quick cleansing charm over my ‘spillage’ and flushed.

 I washed my hand and set about cleaning my teeth. Mum was climbing the stairs, I could hear her, she could never walk anywhere lightly that woman.

 "Ron? Ronald Weasley?" she called as she passed the bathroom and headed up to my bedroom to abuse me. 

 She couldn’t hear the water running through the silencing charm. I spat my mouthful of toothpaste out and flicked my wand at the door to lift the charm just as I heard her stomping back and muttering to herself.

 "In there are you? Good boy. I have an omelette for you if you fancy eggs?"

 "Give it to Dad," I called out as I avoided looking myself in the mirror.

 "He’s gone to work already." 

 "Well, have you eaten?" I asked her.

 "Not yet. I’m waiting for you."

 "Well, you have my omelette and I’ll have some toast. I have to meet Hermione for Dumbledore’s thing soon."  
 

 "I’ll put jam on your toast," she said as she set off back down the stairs.

 "Not red jam!" I found myself shouting urgently.

 She sounded as if she was giving me a singsong response to let me know she’d heard me. It didn’t appear that she’d picked up on my tone. That was something. As far as Mum was concerned, I was okay now. Only Dad knew. Dad knew everything really; he was just better at playing ignorant than anybody gave him credit for.

I opened the bathroom cabinet and stared at the bottle of potion with my name on it.

 

_Ronald Bilius Weasley_

_To be taken every morning until advised otherwise._

_Side effects can involve mood swings and paranoia._

 

I hate that bloody potion.

It tastes vile, like banana mixed with earwax and covered in stink sap, and it looks like vomit. I couldn’t believe it when the Healer gave it to me before I left hospital. I hadn’t been too badly hurt, no worse than anybody else; definitely no worse than Harry had been. The thing was I would always get worked up. Well, I was never placid before really, and would get into a state about the stupidest things.

The twins made one of their off-handed comments when they came to visit me and I actually took it to heart. They liked winding me up to get me angry or to make me laugh but they’d never been met with silence as a reaction to their teasing before. 

Hermione would sit with me at Harry’s bedside and read the _Prophet_ out loud. I couldn’t read for longer than three paragraphs without getting a splitting headache at first. I see blood when I see jam or jelly or anything vividly red. When I actually saw blood, cutting myself shaving of all things, I fainted. The twins teased me about fainting. I clamed up for the rest of the day and everybody worried. 

A Healer dropped a cauldron outside my ward one afternoon. I remember hearing the loud clunk. I remember jumping with a start at the sound of it. I remember my heart beating so hard I pressed my hands against my chest to keep it from bursting open. I don’t remember getting out of bed. I don’t remember climbing out of the fifth floor window. I definitely don’t remember shimmying down the drainpipe and hiding in some bushes in the medical botanical garden.

My dad was holding on to me and rocking me from side to side slowly. He was talking to me softly and telling me it was going to be alright and they were going to give me something to keep me from being so jumpy. I didn’t know I was jumpy. I didn’t know why I was in my pyjamas in the middle of some shrubbery. I had no idea where my dad had come from. He said later that he was coming to visit me and saw me sliding past the window on the second floor.

Mum knew I had a problem but Dad was the one who really knew how bad it was. Harry and Hermione thought I was on the potion for the headaches and the nausea. I let them think that. I let them think I wasn’t on it any more, too.

The Healer said I had Post Traumatic Stress disorder. It was something Muggles get. I don’t know how I caught it; maybe a Muggle sneezed near me or something.

The potion, revolting as it was, did work. The only problem was the side effects. They really did a number on me. I never knew I was being unreasonable until after the fact. I would snap and say hurtful things. What was worse, I would find myself thinking that everybody was judging me harshly for my erratic behaviour. 

I always felt like I’d put my foot in it and before I got the chance to apologise to the person I’d upset would think I wasn’t worth it and write me off. Mum would let it wash over her, but she had to love me no matter what so that didn’t count, and Dad understood so he would just let me ride it out and see the slump hit me and give me a wink so I knew he wasn’t angry with me.

What I wanted more than anything else in the world was to just stop having to take the bloody potion every morning. I wanted this shit to go away and to just been my usual self. Not that I wasn’t moody and self-deprecating but the old me wouldn’t go for the throat without provocation.

So that was my life after the final battle, either climbing out of windows with no memory of doing so or arguing with people one minute and kicking myself the next, from unaware to hyper-aware with one swallow.

"Ron?" Mum called up the stairs to me.

"Yeah, coming," I shouted back.

I pulled the bottle out of the bathroom cabinet and took my daily swig. 

"Better to know I’m messing my day up than be oblivious to my anarchy," I shrugged after gulping down the disgusting slop.

\-------------

While I chomped on my toast with greengage preserve--Mum _does_ listen from time to time--I lazily scanned my mail.

 There was the usual rubbish from the _Daily Prophet_ asking if I had any comment on the latest person testifying that I had really died in the final battle and was an employee of the Ministry Polyjuiced into look like Ron Weasley until Harry Potter was well enough to cope with the news of my death. _Witch Weekly_ asked me if I had anything to say about the story Lavender Brown sold to them about our tumultuous love affair and the harlot Hermione Granger who had stolen me away from her.

 Mum had the waste paper bag floating at my side, ready to catch the balled up parchment as I threw it over my shoulder with an annoyed huff. I took another large bite of toast and jam before unrolling an official looking parchment and reading with a heavy heart.

 "Any luck?" Mum asked with a smile.

 "Mr Weasley, blah blah, unfortunately, blah blah, medical condition, blah blah, unable to offer you the job at this time," I said in a monotone.

"Oh dear," Mum frowned. "Somebody really should have a word with those Healers who are telling all these people that you are still under treatment. It’s costing you so many good jobs."

I didn’t look at her as I sucked on my bottom lip, stick sour from my potion.

"Yeah, well maybe there’s a cooling off period before you’re considered all clear or something," I muttered.

"Oh but still…" she said, fussing with the washing up with her back to me.

I threw the letter into the waste paper bin and tore open the next one.

_Well, look at that._

I was actually employable.

"They want me on the Knight Bus."

"Oh…well…isn’t that…? Oh, well done, Ronnie." Mum shook the suds off her hands and took a step towards me.

I got up from the table and stuffed the letter from Hogwarts into my pocket.

"Gotta go meet Hermione and then we’re off to see Harry. I’ll tell him you said hi."

She was trying to call me back to finish my tea and toast but I was pulling on my cloak and heading out the door to Disapparate.

Just before I left, I pulled the Hogwarts letter out of my pocket and ripped it open.

__

_Dear Mr Weasley,_

__

_I’m afraid the avenue you suggested is not one we are able to explore._

_The financial assistance fund can only be used to fund students of school age._

_I am looking into some way of helping you back to Hogwarts to complete your education. Don’t give up hope yet, Mr Weasley._

__

_Yours,_

_Minerva McGonagall_

__

Great.

I wasn’t going back to school. I wasn’t getting any of the jobs I wanted. The wizarding world was being told, via tabloids, that I was really dead yet a fantastic snogger.

A perfect start to a perfect day.

 


	18. Chapter 18

  
  
Chapter 18

 

 

  
  
I checked my watch like I had done four times in the past ten seconds. Needless to say, it hadn’t moved very far. It read seven forty-seven. I was due in Gringotts in thirteen minutes. I would arrive at the bank in three.

  
  
 

  
  
Sure enough, three minutes later, there I was, walking briskly down the street, head bowed against the wind, brow furrowed in concentration. 

  
  
 

  
  
I’m always concentrating on something. Why is it so hard for me to relax?

  
  
 

  
  
I know the answer to that one; when you’re in the throes of a war it’s hardly the time to relax, is it? We were still getting used to our freedom. If we’re truly honest with ourselves, we weren’t really expecting it. Not that we’d ever admit that of course, but when you’re on your own, looking at a task that seems impossible, with only your own concentration and your own determination to get you through whatever lies before you, it’s not surprising that you expect the worst. Self-doubt does that to you.

  
  
 

  
  
It was at work in me now, too. As I watched myself walk through the double doors and into the wizarding bank, a shiver went through me and my knees buckled. I fell onto the wall that I was standing next to but somehow managed to gather the strength I needed to stop myself falling to the ground.

  
  
 

  
  
I can’t do it.

  
  
 

  
  
I can’t do this! How do I know what to do? How do I know that anything I do won’t make things a hell of a lot worse?

  
  
 

  
  
It’s too hard.

  
  
 

  
  
It’s just too hard.

  
  
 

  
  
A sob caught in my throat and I wheezed, trying to get air into my lungs. But the panic that coursed through me wouldn’t let me and I felt my throat start to constrict as the tears fell from my eyes. I turned towards the wall and leant my forehead against the cold hard, stone.

  
  
 

_  
  
Breathe Hermione, you have to breathe!_

  
  
 

  
  
Like I don’t know that! It’s just getting my head to stop thinking harrowing thoughts that’s the problem.

  
  
 

  
  
I just can’t stop seeing him lying on the wet ground, cold, eyes closed, dead.

  
  
 

  
  
I sobbed again and clamped a hand to my mouth. Instinctively, I moved further down the alley I was hiding in, just in case anyone heard me and came looking.

  
  
 

  
  
I tried to take a few deep breaths, well, deeper than I had managed so far and one or all of them started to work slightly. I finally lifted my head and stepped back to my previous position, one that had as wider view of Diagon Alley as I could risk. A hooded figure in an alleyway was not something to be in Diagon Alley in the present climate; it was an invitation for instant arrest.

  
  
 

  
  
That was hardly something I could afford.

  
  
 

  
  
I looked up from the ground and what I saw took my breath away.

  
  
 

  
  
Ron.

  
  
 

  
  
Ron walking down the street in much the same way I had. His pace was more like a stroll but his brow was furrowed like mine had been. He looked worried about something.

  
  
 

  
  
My mind shifted into gear.

  
  
 

  
  
Of course, he was worried about something; he had no money to pay for his final year at school.

  
  
 

  
  
If I wake up tomorrow and the only thing I have to deal with is Ron being moody about his financial situation, I’ll shout and scream with delight.

  
  
 

  
  
I watched him walk down the street and my heart jumped. Merlin, even him looking like a grumpy sod makes me feel like this. I couldn’t stop looking at him, the way his fringe flopped down into his eyes, his numerous freckles that annoyed him silly when the sun was out and made a few merge together, making ‘monster freckles’ as Harry called them. His hands were in his pockets and he was hunched against the wind, much like I had been.

  
  
 

  
  
I felt more tears escape my eyes. He was beautiful; there was no other way to describe him. From his hair to his freckles to his stubbornness and excessive swearing, he was just…perfect.

  
  
 

  
  
Before I knew what I was doing, I felt myself walk forwards towards him. He had passed the entrance to the alleyway and was walking through the street, still at a leisurely pace. I followed him and, again, before I knew what I was doing, heard myself call out his name.

  
  
 

  
  
‘Ron!’

  
  
 

  
  
For some reason, I held my breath as I watched him turn around, like I was expecting it not to be him.

  
  
 

  
  
‘Hermione! What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be at the bank?’ he asked me.

  
  
 

  
  
I just stared at him; I took in every inch of his face, every hair falling into his eyes, every millimetre of stubble that obviously hadn’t bothered to shave this morning and then every different shade of blue in his eyes.

  
  
 

  
  
I think I took a step closer to him. I wasn’t thinking about anything else but him.

  
  
 

  
  
‘Hermione…are you all right? You’re being… _weird_!’

  
  
 

  
  
His voice brought me back down to earth.

  
  
 

  
  
‘Er, yeah…yeah I’m fine.’

  
  
 

  
  
I was anything but fine.

  
  
 

  
  
‘I just needed to…’

  
  
 

  
  
What did I need to do exactly? I needed to say something to him; that was certain, he was starting to get confused.

  
  
 

  
  
‘Hermione has something happened? Has someone hurt you?’

  
  
 

  
  
His eyes widened slightly. If… _no_ … _when_ I save him from that murderous rat and I get annoyed at him for something stupid and insignificant I’ll remember this, the way he _always_ wants to defend me from anyone who wanted to do me harm.

  
  
 

  
  
I cleared my throat.

  
  
 

  
  
‘No, no, nothing like that. Sorry, I was miles away…thinking about…things.’

  
  
 

  
  
He smirked.

  
  
 

  
  
‘When are you not?’

  
  
 

  
  
I laughed and joined him in his smile. I hadn’t smiled in hours.

  
  
 

  
  
‘So…did you want something? ‘Cause you’re gonna be late for the meeting.’

  
  
 

  
  
‘What? Oh! Yes of course! I just wanted to tell you something. I-’

  
  
 

  
  
My voice caught in my throat.

  
  
 

_  
  
Some Gryffindor you are, Hermione!_

  
  
 

  
  
I took a deep breath.

  
  
 

  
  
‘I just wanted to say that I…I like you Ron…’

  
  
 

  
  
How vague can you be Hermione? I mean really!

  
  
 

  
  
He smiled a confused smile.

  
  
 

  
  
‘Well, I’d hope so Hermione We're best friends!’

  
  
 

  
  
Time for the less subtle approach. I felt myself grow hot, even the thought of what I was about to do was making me blush.

  
  
 

  
  
‘No I mean…Ron, I like you more than that…’

  
  
 

  
  
I stepped forward so there was barely any space between us and ran my hands up and down his arms.

  
  
 

  
  
He was standing here with me. He was really here. I really had a second chance at getting things right.

  
  
 

  
  
It took him by surprise when I hugged him. I squeezed him tightly to me as if my life depended on it and after a quiet few seconds I felt his arms wrap around my waist.

  
  
 

  
  
‘Hermione…what?’ he said quietly in my ear.

  
  
 

  
  
In response, I hugged him tighter. I think I was stopping him breathing properly, but he didn’t flinch or move, he just let me hold him.

  
  
 

  
  
I broke away from him even though it caused me actual physical pain to do so. My stomach contracted and turned over. I didn’t want to let him go.

  
  
 

  
  
‘Hermione are you going to tell me-?’

  
  
 

  
  
I caught him off guard by closing the gap between us once again, but this time I kissed him.

  
  
 

  
  
I knew he was expecting me to pull back instantly so I carried on kissing him, gently but with purpose. I’d make sure he knew how I felt. Eventually, he started to kiss me back, cautiously, as if he was double-checking this was real and not a joke.

  
  
 

  
  
I ran my fingers through his hair and pulled him slightly closer to me. His grip around my waist tightened and he deepened the kiss. I couldn’t help but smile against his lips and I knew he was trying not to do the same.

  
  
 

  
  
A loud crash of dustbin lids made us both jump and we broke apart, breathing heavily. I looked into his eyes and he stared into mine. I cursed myself when I felt tears fill them.

  
  
 

  
  
‘So _that’s_ what you meant? I mean…when you said ‘more than that’, you meant you want to be…more than friends?’

  
  
 

  
  
‘I’d like nothing more.’

  
  
 

  
  
He smiled his cheeky smile but then his brow furrowed.

  
  
 

  
  
‘Er…I hate to say this but, shouldn’t you be in your meeting?’

  
  
 

  
  
I sighed. ‘Yes…yes, I should.’

  
  
 

  
  
‘We’re still having breakfast though aren’t we, after you’re done?’

  
  
 

  
  
‘Yes we are! I’ll see you after the show!’

  
  
 

  
  
The words rattled around my head and I had to close my eyes. Images ran through my mind.

  
  
 

_  
  
‘I’ll send someone to get you after I’ve found that snivelling little traitor Wormtail.’_

_  
  
_

_  
  
‘Enjoy the show!’_

_  
  
_

  
  
The show.

  
  
 

  
  
Ron was kissing me.

  
  
 

  
  
He was grabbing my hands behind my back.

  
  
 

  
  
Spinning me round and binding my hands and feet.

  
  
 

  
  
Lying on the ground.

  
  
 

  
  
Dead.

  
  
 

  
  
‘Well, go on then!’ he said playfully.

  
  
 

  
  
‘I’m going!’ I said in as natural voice I could.

  
  
 

  
  
‘See you later,’ he said with a wave.

  
  
 

  
  
Later.

  
  
 

  
  
Oh Merlin!

  
  
 

  
  
‘ _Ron!_ ’ I screeched as he started to turn away.

  
  
 

  
  
‘What?’ he asked, still smiling.

  
  
 

  
  
‘I mean it you know. I really do…whatever hap-…whatever I say…I…I mean it.’

  
  
 

  
  
‘Okay. I believe you! Now go!’

  
  
 

  
  
He checked his watch.

  
  
 

  
  
‘You’re officially late!’

  
  
 

  
  
I smiled as I watched him turn around. I did the same and walked back in the direction of the bank. I checked over my shoulder before ducking back into the alley I had spent a large proportion of the morning in, just watching and waiting.

  
  
 

  
  
So…now what do I do?

 

 


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter 19

 

 

I leaned back against the wall of Gringotts and found myself seized with unstoppable giggles.

 

Where the hell had that come from?

 

Hermione kissed me. Hermione said she liked me. Hermione said she liked me in a more than friendly way.

 

I licked my lips and smiled to myself like a concussed Lockhart. She tasted so warm and her tongue was like velvet being rubbed the wrong way. There was salt on her lips and her breath was so hot and intense. 

 

She just kissed me, out of the blue, for no reason. Hermione Granger wanted me. My stomach flipped over and I felt the need to sit down. Then I felt the need to Floo to Hogwarts and tell Ginny. Oh, Harry was going to be all weird with us, wasn’t he? Maybe we’d be quiet about it for now. Yeah, we should just get used to it ourselves until we’re ready to…

 

"Oh shit, I didn’t say it back!"

 

I stared straight ahead and slapped myself on the forehead. I never told Hermione that I liked her, too. She’d told me and kissed me and said we were…well, a ‘we’ and I’d just…

 

What had I done?

 

I couldn’t really remember. I was just swept up in the moment. I’d gone from a total loser who couldn’t get a job and hadn’t finished school and was taking a potion to suppress my inner ‘nutter’ to publicly snogging my best mate in the street for all to see.

 

"Right, shall we be off, then?" Hermione suddenly said briskly from behind me.

 

I turned around and beamed at her. I wasn’t sure if I should give her a cuddle, take her hand, or just blurt out that I felt the same way, too, and that I was happy for the first time in ages. Hermione seemed distracted as she stuffed something into her robe and looked up at me, waiting for my answer.

 

"Um, we’re going to get breakfast now, yeah?" I asked her, my smile melting into a slightly more anxious frown.

 

Oh crap, she was pissed off at me because I didn’t say I liked her, too.

 

"That sounds lovely," Hermione said, still acting neither friendly nor annoyed.

 

"So what did you get from Dumbledore, then?" I decided to work my way up to the relationship talk. 

 

Maybe when we were sitting in some cosy café with nice hot tea and crumpets, I could let her know that this was what I wanted. _She_ was what I wanted. I’d always thought that we should give it a try but I’d never suggested it to her. I was afraid she would either laugh in my face, thinking it was a joke, or give me a pitying look and tell me I was nothing more than a friend to her. On top of everything else, I couldn’t handle a rejection from Hermione as well. Strangers could decide I wasn’t worth employing. People on the street could see me as nothing but a gateway to get to Harry Potter. McGonagall could tell me that there was nothing she could do to help me get my N.E.W.T.s, but for me to hear Hermione telling me I wasn’t good enough for her would have been too much.

 

But she _did_ want me. My stomach flipped back over again and I screamed at myself to just sod it and take her hand. She’d know what it meant. She’d know it was my way of showing her that I was happy about this, happy and comfortable and very, very pleased. Maybe I could even tell her about the Post Traumatic Stress thing. Hermione was a Muggle, she would understand. She was clever, too, maybe she could help me get off the potion and get a grip on things again.

 

"I’m afraid that’s going to have to remain my business, Ronald." Hermione said as she marched off ahead of me. "So where do you want to go? I think Cumshaws are open again after the looting during the war."

 

Oh Merlin, she was pissed off with me!

 

"I don’t mind," I said as I bounded after her and tried to grab for her hand.

 

Our knuckles clashed and she turned and huffed at me.

 

"Ron, what _are_ you doing?"

 

"I was just…"

 

"I think we need to get something warm inside us and then get to Harry. Let’s not dawdle."

 

I had no idea what to make of this. She seemed to happy when she went into the bank and now she was…it was like…I was just me again. Something had happened in the bank that made her think I was suddenly not worth the effort.

 

"So, you need to talk to Harry about Dumbledore’s will then, eh?" I said as nonchalantly as I could.

 

"I told you I can’t talk about that, especially not out here on the street." Hermione stopped outside a nearby café and grabbed me by the arm to shove me over to the counter. "Tea and crumpets alright with you, Ron?"

 

"Hermione, are you going to tell me what’s changed since you went into the bank or do I just have to guess?" I snapped.

 

My mood swings are like being on a roller coaster. I can see the next big drop coming before it happens but there’s nothing I can do to stop it.

 

"It’s none of your business!" Hermione hissed at me as she took a seat at a table near the window. "Honestly, it’s as if you only offered to come along with me to find out what was going on. Here I was thinking you wanted to wait for me for the pleasure of my company."

 

So that was it. That’s what she thought of me. She tested me before. The kiss was just to see if I said I liked her more than a friend before she got her inheritance and because I hadn’t said it, she thought I was only warming up to her now because she was loaded. 

 

"Sir?" the witch behind the counter smiled.

 

"Um, two teas and two lots of toasted crumpets, buttered," I said distractedly. "Got any jam?"

 

"We’ll bring them to your table with a selection of jams and marmalades, sir. Three Sickles, please."

 

"Three?" I said, feeling as if Hermione’s point would be humiliatingly proved if I had to ask her to pay for her own bloody crumpet.

 

I plunged my hand into my pocket and silently begged the Hogwarts founders and Merlin himself to let me have enough on me. I pulled a handful of change out of my pocket.

 

"There’s two and," I tried not to blush, "is it okay if I give you the rest in Knuts?"

 

The witch smiled at me.

 

"That’s fine, sir. We can always use small change, no problem at all."

 

Small change. Everything I had was small change to the rest of the wizarding world, even to a waitress in a tiny little café. I was almost tempted to ask her if there were any jobs going but a tiny house-elf was nudging me away from the counter towards our table.

 

"You is to sits, sir, sits with yous’ friend and I brings to you!"

 

"Yeah, okay."

 

"Um, Grottle," the witch said with a weary shake of the head, "let the man take his teas with him and go and attend to the crumpets. Make sure they don’t burn."

 

I added plenty of milk to one tea and a splash to the other then picked up the two teas and set off toward Hermione.

 

"There you go," I said as I set her tea down and made her jump.

 

"Oh, thank you, Ron," she blinked and looked into the cup with some degree of surprise. "You didn't over milk it."

 

"Well, I've known you long enough by now to know how you like your tea, haven't I?" I huffed as I sat down.

 

And so it began. We argued and I said lots of things that made me feel like a right bastard and made her look as if I’d just punched her in the face and eaten her cat.

 

 "I'm sorry." 

 

"For what?" 

 

"For...everything...ever!" 

 

"Ron, you have been strange ever since I came out of that meeting at Gringotts. What has got into you?" Hermione demanded.

 

It was all about Gringotts. I knew it. I should have said it back. I should have done something before she went in. Was it too late to reciprocate her feelings now?

 

Leaning over the table I reached for her in exactly the same way she head reached for me before. I held her close to me, either she was flushing with embarrassment or I had squished a hot crumpet between the two of us, and I angled my head and kissed her back.

 

Immediately, something felt different. It was as if she didn’t want me to be doing it at first, then she warmed up to it and kissed me back a little nervously. It was odd. There had been so much passion when she had kissed me but this time…it felt like it was the first time she’d ever kissed me, not the second. She was staring at me with wide eyes as I broke away and looked her in the eyes with as much sincerity I could project for her to see.

 

"I really like you, too..." 

 

Hermione shoved me away with both hands.

 

"You think that's funny, do you?" she said, refusing to meet my eyes anymore. "Contrary to popular myth, when a woman tells you you’re an insufferable prat, it sometimes simply means you are an insufferable prat!"

 

Well, there you have it. I was too late. Hermione thought I only cared about the money she got from Dumbledore and not her at all. Hermione thought I was that kind of a person.

 

On top of everything else…Hermione had rejected me. I could never talk to her about all my problems, school, jobs, and especially not money, not now. Not ever.

 

\-------

 

I pulled on my cloak and tried to spot Hermione as she stomped down the road with her hood up. 

 

Do you have any idea how bloody difficult it is to follow a black-robed figure with their hood up on a street full of other black-robed figures with their hoods up?

 

It was raining and I ‘excused me’ all the way along the street, rain getting in my eyes and flattening my hair to my face. There was really no point to putting my hood up at all now, not that I would have done anyway. I always feel a little claustrophobic completely covered in black apart from my face. It’s like I can barely breathe.

 

"Where is she?" I grumbled to myself as I peered over the bobbing heads to see if I could pick out Hermione’s ‘I’m so pissed off with you right now’ walk.

 

"I’m here," she said as she stepped out of a side alley and pulled me close, her eyes were filled with tears and I felt like even more of a shit for making her cry. "I’m sorry!"

 

She hugged me tightly and sniffed into my chest.

 

"Look, I was surprised when you kissed me. I would have said it back before I knew about the money, I swear," I began as her body shuddered against mine.

 

"Don’t!" she snapped as she pulled away from me and wiped her eyes, stepping back towards the street and pulling her hood back up again. "Don’t ever think that’s why I’m cross with you. I would never think you’d prostitute yourself just to pay for…just for money. Never think I didn’t…that I don’t…Oh God, I shouldn’t be doing this!"

 

She turned and ran back into the crowd again. I felt like my head was spinning on my shoulders. So what was that about? Did she want me? Didn’t she want me? Did she like or dislike the kiss? Should I do it again or never speak of it and carry on just as friends?

 

I followed her out into the street, having lost sight of her yet again, and shoved my hands into my pockets. The wind battered rain into my face and I turned away from it as I ploughed on through the sheets of water. I knew where she was going. I’d catch her up, eventually.  
  
I neared the end of the alleyway and heard a tut. It wasn’t worth looking around. I could do without another person telling me what a git I was.

 

"Ron!"  
  
I jumped and looked up. It sounded like Hermione again. Why did she keep doing that? I squinted around through the rain for her.

 

"Is there a reason why you just ignored me?" she shouted at me over the rain but she seemed to have got her second wind of being pissed off.

 Perhaps I was supposed to have chased her rather than trudging dejectedly behind. There was clearly nothing I could do right.  
  
"Yes! I didn’t bloody well see you, that’s why! I was trying to keep the rain out of my eyes by looking at the ground. Is that alright with you?"

  
"You could have put your hood up! Then you wouldn’t have needed to stare intently at the ground.’

 

"And I thought _I_ was the one with the mood swings," I mumbled under my breath.

 

 


End file.
